UnHeralded Strength, Book I
by Lysis
Summary: This is the first in a series of small stories, "Books" about Bagoas. It begins about 9 or ten months after he has joined Alexander's court.
1. Chapter 1

Unheralded Strength, Book I

By Lysis (August, 2014) This is a story about Bagoas, if you're not a fan of his, don't' read. Thank you.

*The Egyptian Setapas from my story The _River of Ordeal_ is in this story. He is an original character.

*Heka, the ancient Egyptian god of medicine. The Nile's yearly inundation is in the Western July.

* * *

_Late winter 330 BCE, Aria (Eastern Iran)_

The foot, resting on a small green pillow was, like rest of the youth who sat simply clothed in a loincloth upon a pinewood clothing stool, slender and well muscled with long toes and a high arch. Thick calluses covered the pads of the toes and heels, which were weeping blood and clear fluid from several large blisters. A similar sight was seen on the other foot that was held in the hand of a young, golden hair warrior who had taken the boy's foot onto his lap. Clad in a simple red chiton, feet bare, he sat easily in an exquisite gold and silver gilded chair that he had brought with him from Khmet. The large, all protecting eye of Horus, and life giving rays of RA were borne out throughout the chair's elaborately painted design and about the oval cartouche bearing the warrior's name; Alexander, Great RA, Lord of the Two Lands. At his direction a young blue tattooed Thracian slave bore forth a large urn of steaming water to pour into a large, shallow pink alabaster bowl that sat on a long, low table of ebony before him.

The air grew fragrant as oil of iris, cinnamon, lemongrass and myrtle wood mingled with the water poured into the basin. Khmet linen, fine and snowy as an egret's feather was dipped into the scented waters. Then, ever so gently it was soothed on the blisters, bruises by a tall, dignified young Egyptian servant. Hoops of pure gold glimmered in the Egyptian's ears, and his fine long, dark eyes lined with kohl studied each man, the young King and the Persian youth, who, by his reckoning, had joined the court scant months after the Nile's yearly inundation. This process of the washing was repeated twelve times. A kiss was placed reverently upon each foot before an infusion of myrrh, arnica and lavender was massaged into the warm ivory skin.

"Now, no further practice until those blisters heal. "'Tis true, I love the dance, but I would not see you limping, it would please me little and I would growl like a bear do you ignore me!" Bagoas, an exquisitely beautiful black eyed eunuch of sixteen, could not help but smile at the tender rebuke, and nodded his agreement. His dark, languorous eyes, however, told another story. One of such strong devotion that nothing would bring him pause in his desire to please the man for whom he had danced. Seeing this look, as he was coming to know the Persian youth, well, Alexander, though secretly delighted, scolded. "I look to you to see that this is so." He narrowed his gaze at the slender, dark eyed Egyptian, Setapas, by his side who bowed his shaven head reverently.

"I will have you watched, if I must. Those blisters are nothing to scoff at. I know, do they become infected, and, aye, they can where we are going, it will become a bitter complaint with me." Alexander scolded as he watched Setapas wrap Bagoas' right foot in the long strip of linen a Thracian slave handed him. Three layers of linen were applied, a small, wafer thin, golden amulet, bearing the sign of the god Heka, was applied with each new layer. The line and direction of the wrappings, and chanted prayers to Heka were precise and careful. This process was repeated exactly on the left foot.

"I will do as you say, Great King.." Bagoas' voice faltered when Alexander frowned and corrected himself. "I'skander, Lord God I'skander." Glossy black hair swung about a near perfect face. Setapas, raise a long black eyebrow, his dark eyes twinkling as the young Persian, gazed in near worship at the handsome, young, golden haired man before him. The boy's gaze _was_ worshipful. Indeed, there was cause to worship for the Great RA was a man unlike any other. Not since Osiris himself, in his most perfect form, had walked the earth had such a man been known.

Setapas could see that Bagoas was aware of the Great RA's divinity. Indeed, Setapas felt that each breath the man took was felt within all nine souls of the youth. He grinned watching them, for each man was perfection of form and breath. It was to Bagoas' honor, and purity of heart, that the Great RA had singled him out, as he, as a man was deeply enamored of the warrior Hephaistion, a most splendid, cunning and wise Macedonian nobleman. Indeed, thought Setapas, this warrior, Hephaistion, was close to the gods himself, his physicality was breathtaking, and as he himself had witnesses at Siwah, their nine souls were shared within their two bodies. Even Ma'at would bow down before Hephaistion and let him pass unscathed unto the Field of Reeds. Setapas had first encountered the Great RA when he had come before the god's oracle there. He had been long awaited, and his coming brought great rejoicing unto the Red and the Black lands.

"You obey the Great RA, or I myself will beat you." Setapas muttered under his breath. His black eyes, flecked with gold near the irises met the Great RA's mystical gaze. A message of perfect understanding passed between them, although a slight grin played upon the Great RA's mouth.

"Bagoas, this is no small thing I ask. I wish a boon from you, and…"

"Anything, my Lor - Iskander, I am ever your faithful servant." Came the quick response which Alexander silenced with the wave of his hand. His eyes were merry though he tried to keep his voice firm. It had taken until recent weeks to get the boy to keep from prostrating before him each time he came into his presence. He was trying, but asking a polished courtier, which the Persian so clearly was, from the tip of his shining black head to his perfect toes, to address him as commonly as the lowest ranker would was still a hard fought battle. However, Alexander grinned and reflected he liked challenges, especially one so…enticing. So…he would pretend to scold...at least for now.

"It will not work…he will ignore me and work himself into a frenzy." Alexander pretended to sigh wearily, as he turned from Bagoas muttering softly to himself as he took up a small ivory colored alabaster box, from the table before him, and unwrapped the scarab set therein. It was the purest gold, and shone like Helios' brightest rays at the beginning of the day. It bore his private cartouche as Lord of the Two Land upon the obverse side and the most perfect decoration of Horus' all protective eye in lapis, onyx, carnelian, and faience on the front. It would be set into a band of pure gold to form a ring. "Well, perhaps…" He looked back up, keeping his face straight while meeting the wide, sparkling eyes of Bagoas. "Think you can calm yourself enough to hear me out?" The fall of silky long black hair enticed him to catch it up and wrap it about his hand, but he steeled himself against such thoughts as Bagoas bowing in perfect submission committed to his wishes.

"Aye, Iskander, anything."

"'Tis Hephaistion's feast day soon and I wish a special celebration to honor him. As you know he has been apart from me lately on duty, but he will return in time. It must be kept a secret. You know he loves the music of the flute. I wish you to create a special dance to honor him, in the Egyptian style. He is lately entranced with all things Egyptian and I wish to please him." He looked up at Setapas who nodded; they had already discussed this through. "Setapas has created such music as they sing in the temples when offering to the god Amon, of flute and harp. It must honor the deeds of Horus, who while we were at Siwah, did come to him in a vision. Will you do this for me?"

A great smile lit Bagoas' face. "Oh, aye, my Lord! I will dance as I have never danced before!"

"It will be on the first Ares day in our month of Artimisos. That is, by my reckoning near two full moons away." He turned toward Setapas, the question in his shining eyes. "Think you the blisters will heal by then?"

Setapas bowed low, his smooth, dark skin glowing in the warming rays of the sun. "Aye, Great RA. I will perform the magic of Heka each day upon his feet. Does he do as I direct; these sores will heal within a fortnight."

Bagoas inclined his head gracefully and looked up at Alexander. "Aye, Great King, I will do as you desire.

"Very well, it is settled then." He stood up; tossing down an olive he plucked from a bowl nearby, and gave both men a waggish wink. "I wish I could stay longer, but I must meet with my General's soon else they will come seeking me and steal all my pleasure with their long looks and grave concerns." He grinned, and grabbed up a handful of dates and figs and strode toward the door, only to return and fling himself casually into the gilded chair to chat a bit more. At length he moaned softly, yawning and pulled himself back up. 'Tis done, no more of my sluggish ways. Now, I am away to the hospital tents, for I would know how my wounded do, so I will go now. Non!" He turned at the sound of Bagoas' smooth toned alto, but could not contain the pleasure in his eyes when their gazes met. "Do not get up. However, you may if you wish…kiss my hand." His large blue eyes were full of teasing as Bagoas stood up, he was a bit taller than the king, and, taking great care with the sacred person of his king, he leaned forward and kissed the royal lips devoutly. Alexander's eyes were twinkling as their gazes met once more. An unspoken message was passed between them. Setapas chuckled softly, but kept solemn watchful eyes on the young king as he left the room.

To be continued….


	2. Chapter 2

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.I

By Lysis

About two days following the events in Book I. Alexander, is very busy, as usual, his mind on many things, and one is his new Persian boy, Bagoas.

* * *

Night came too quickly for Alexander. The third watch was on duty an hour already. He sighed softly, suppressed a yawn and took a deep breath to invigorate himself. Ah, the air smelt of pine, and the smooth cool shadows of Nyx. It was still very cold, but he was overheated from his nightly walking of the camp. He wore only a lighter weight cuirass over his chiton to warm him.

Hephaistion loved such nights as these, the cooler the better for him so he could snuggle down between a good warm blanket and, if Hephaistion was willing, and Alexander so fortunate, his own two arms that might warm him. Of late such things grew less and less. Their private time was becoming something of the past, and both men mourned this. On such a night as this! Ah, it was meant for them. Sadly, though Hephaistion was not in camp. To be camped so near such a great forest as that which rose about them with that sharp, balsam scent lingering in the air was full of boyhood memories. He was learning toward a good hour of fishing would the gods might grant him time in the morning, for there was a fast moving brook nearby that had proved fruitful. With the army being bivouacked for winter, he had more time for such things. He was planning a longer campaign that would take them through the Hindu Kush, and was anxious to be about it, but the forward scouts had not yet returned with all the intelligence he required, so the army was camped out for the time being.

He began to think how pleasant a hot bath scented with pine essence would be. Then he grimaced thinking on all the things he had not yet seen to; Boukepahlos, foremost. He had been favoring his left foreleg since noon. Boukepahlos' long time groom, Timon had known just what to do ease it. Still, he would see his horse cared for before he would lie down to sleep. He turned to the youngest of his pages, thirteen year old Menander, son of Perikles of Pella, who served with Philotas in the Companion Calvary. The boy was small for his age, with a shock of red hair that recalled to him Kassander, Antipater's son, for it near that same bright shade, but quick to catch onto things, and had a pretty voice for singing. He was also biddable, and did not complain no matter what was asked of him.

"Menander, go you to my tent, inform the duty pages I will return soon. If Bagoas is there, tell him to stay. I would speak with him." A bright streak of fire, the boy took off, his manner conscientious and fleet of foot and Alexander saw a bit of himself in the quick witted youth, and noted he would speak to Hephaistion of further training with him.

"Marsayas, you fool come have some wine!" A man's voice bellowed loudly and somewhere in the near distance a thick, gruff voice answered back. Alexander grinned when he came upon a small group about a campfire. He sniffed appreciatively; the air was redolent of rabbit, which they were roasting over the fire.

"Alexander! Alexander! Join us, come join us!" The cry came from all sides when he was spotted. "Come eat with us, boy! You're too skinny by half. Now your father, there was a man could eat!" One old trooper called out amid great cries of jesting and laughter. He laughed along with them, and waved the man down who had risen.

"I can stay but a little, for I've much to see to." He answered their exuberant calls, laughing and took up the wine handed him, drank and sat a bit joking with them, listening to their tales. The rabbit was teasing his senses. He would not mind a bite of something more. Supper seemed so long ago. Well into the third hour of the second watch. Perhaps once he reached his tent…

"Non, non, do not leave so soon!" Was the cry when at last he rose a good half hour later, but with the dripping joint of rabbit warming his belly. He licked as the delicious grease ran down his hand. Were Bagoas nearby, the newest member of his court here, he would press a cloth upon him to catch the juices, but there was something to be said with eating it in this manner! Indeed, his appetite, which he kept careful control of, grew amid the company and bracing night air. Such ingredients made for the best of meals. Should they read his thought several of the troopers, for it was a regiment of the Silver Shields, and had known him since a babe, would scoff and say he was too thin and still wet behind the ears. Should he wish to, he could set himself amongst them, they would watch out for him, they always had. Aye, and what of that creature, several had dared ask, the Persian eunuch? He took it in good humor, these men were the stuff of legend, and allowed leeway others were not. He saw, however, the question in their expectant gazes, and almost laughed aloud at it - whether he did or no, 'twas his business. But, aye, he knew the way of the camp; all things were open to speculation and gossip. To please them he took the meat and left them feeling replete and in good humor, but he didn't answer the question they had all hinted at, the Persian Boy and what did he do with him? He always felt a boy of young years, safe and comfortable with these veterans, who had helped form his early training.

The hospital tents were busy, which did not please him, for some gripe of the belly was laying the men low. He directed the water supply to be checked again, and called for more provision of wine to be laid on in case the need grew greater. He could not afford to lose good men when such a thing was preventable.

He sat for a good while with Seleukos, son of Antiokhos, who was part of the _agema_ of the Companion Calvary. A bright tactician in his own right on the field of battle, renown for breeding and training of his own war horses, Alexander enjoyed his company. His short black curls covered by a broad linen bandage, he was recovering from a recent head wound. They bantered back and forth sharing stories of boyhood exploits and the idea for a game of war strategy Alexander had been developing with Krateros and Hephaistion. Seleukos, whose large blue eyes would grow larger still when he grew excited by relating some exploit of his or his men's in battle grew sleepy as time wore on and Alexander took leave of him, but with the caution that he should rest as he would expect him, hale and hearty on his next hunt.

Philotas had lately spoken of Seleukos' as a good man with quick decisions. He never hesitated once he made a decision, but thought things out clearly beforehand, and was quick to see with his nimble mind when a change might be called for. He recalled to Alexander, the strategic brilliance of Parmenion, who though he might find the older man a personal irritation, at times. was sound in his thinking. Though of late, especially at Gaugamela he had found his more tried and true ways of strategy frustrating. One would never say Parmenion was not for taking a chance, but he would always bolster that chance with good solid methods. He could sometimes imagine he could hear his father's voice in Parmenion's words and advice, slower, and plodding at times, but as Philip had long shown time and again by his own victories, a solid foundation when formulating battle plans often proved the key to victory. However, Alexander argued with himself, or the voice of his father, he wasn't always certain, battle was also structured chaos and one had to be ever ready to move in another direction, in an instant. He had proven this at Chaeronea. It was a great game to be played out with moves thought well out in advance, with as many strategies deployed against the ever present threat of loss and retreat. He thought again, briefly, of the game he and Seleukos had discussed, which he was beginning to call _Strategos. _ Something for fun to keep their minds active, they had seen the concept in an Egyptian game Philotas knew, and been intrigued by it. Perhaps tonight… Non, it was too late, and he would admit, he was growing weary, and none of his pages quick enough should he explain it to them. Well, there was Menander, but he had set him some task and he would not be able. Something Seleukos had suggested nipped at him. He was keen to try it out and needed a quick mind. Perhaps Bagoas…?

Ah, that was another concern, Alexander reflected, Bagoas. The boy, what was he…? Ah, nai, seventeen summers, he had said. The Persian, so newly come to his court intrigued him tremendously. Nightly he plied him with questions about Darius and court ways. Perhaps too much, as last night the youth had been yawning while, he had been anxious to keep talking. Indeed, Alexander reflected, he would go on long into the early hours of the morn if he were able. So much intrigued him about the youth and Darius' court. Hmm, there was something about the youth, his polished, sophisticated ways that called to him, deeply. He was not as he had expected in any manner. Very quick of mind, skilled at dealing with adversaries, which Alexander knew he had earned merely by setting foot in camp, and of course, being what he was, which he could not help. He found himself frowning, the absurdity that some would suggest that the boy had sought to become a eunuch! What man would ever desire such a thing! Indeed, Alexander admitted, he was curious about how it had come about, but the youth, for all his smoothly polished courtly armor was sensitive, though he hid it well. He had seen it clear the fourth night he had come.

Alexander stopped a moment reflecting on that eve's events, and how the Persian had handled them, brilliantly, and with great skill, which considering his adversary...was surprising in many ways.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.2

by Lysis

Hykarina, Late summer, 330 BCE

*_** Alexander's Lovers, by Andrew Chugg is interesting reading on the historical Bagoas._

* * *

Hephaistion had just come back from treating with surrendering Persian nobility, whose numbers increased daily. Now that Darius, their Great King was no more, they had little choice, surrender, throw themselves on Alexander's mercy or toss their lot in with Bessos, the pretender.

Many had chosen to align with this unknown force, this boy-king from Hellas, being intelligent men, rather than align with a pretender. These Persian nobles were men of strength and knew well the omens and honored the ways of their forefathers. That a man such as Bessos, though satrap of Baktria, kin to the now deceased Great King, would put on the miter and think he could take place of the god anointed King? Non, it was not to be done! Many had also fought against Alexander and knew which way the wind was blowing, and it was not in Bessos' favor. So, they began their journey to the Hellene camp, begging for audience, and praying to their gods that Alexander might show them mercy.

One such man, whom Alexander had shown the barest of mercies was Nabarzanes, Darius' Chiliarch. Alexander had fought this courageous and successful general at Issos. He was one of Darius' few generals who had given him great cause for alarm, for he had battled him at great cost. Tall, elegantly handsome and showing no fear Nabarzanes presented himself to Alexander. Hephaistion well recalled the man, as did Alexander, who had fought him hand to hand and been wounded by him. However, he was also one of those men involved in the death of Darius, and Alexander was not pleased, nor trusting at first to accept the surrender of such as he. His first instinct when the man presented himself was to call for his immediate arrest. However, Nabarzanes was also a soldier, and that was something Alexander did understand. After a tough period of questioning to which the man stood up honestly and forthrightly, accepting blame for his actions, owning them fully, Alexander decided to let him off with a warning. He had been helped in his decision by a youth of uncommon beauty, whom Nabarzanes introduced as Bagoas, a favorite of the late Darius. It fell to Bagoas to, who spoke Greek, to interpret Nabarzanes' words and, as Nabarzanes was known to him as a man of honor, he added his own pleas that his life be spared.

Hephaistion aware of all this, was then set to watch Nabarzanes and traveled with him for several days keeping a close eye on the man's actions, making note of all he met with and what said. Deeply concerned with Nabarzanes' undoubted influence with Persia's nobility, it was Hephaistion's decision that the man live or dies. Contented at last that the right decision was made, Hephaistion left Nabarzanes with the parting gift of truth that had he believed there was any dishonesty, Nabarzanes and all his men would now be food for the crows. Hephaistion had watched, showing little emotion as the man's black eyes had widened and then a small smiled had played upon his lips while he bowed low honoring he and Alexander's actions. He had been outwitted, he admitted as much, and with the gift of one of his personal horses to Hephaistion, he gave his private oath, beside that which he had given Alexander never to lift a finger, nor any of his kinsman against the young King. He proved as good as his word. So, when Hephaistion arrived back in camp he was pleased to report as such.

While, he had been present when Bagoas had come in with Nabarzanes, because of his own pressing duties and those Alexander placed further upon him, he had not been able to later question the youth himself. Something he would have done, he told Alexander when he arrived back and strode into his tent ready for a good talk and evening meal, and he found himself face to face with this unknown quality. Alexander had seen clear in his fine eyes, just how curious and also irritated he was by this newest addition. Curious, aye, he always was, about everything, but irritated, oh, aye! Indeed, he had been spoiling for a fight.

Alexander had dismissed Bagoas and allowed Hephaistion his say. He raged at Alexander for his personal carelessness, until he felt he might sink with chagrin into the carpeting beneath his feet for his laxness with personal security, for indeed, Alexander admitted, he had not given much thought to such, though all members of Nabarzanes' party had been thoroughly searched upon arriving at the camp, nothing more had been done. With Alexander's words ringing in his ears, Hephaistion had gone after the boy with a fury that left Alexander wondering his true intentions.

* * *

Hephaistion's first instinct, indeed, after leaving Alexander, he sought out Krateros and Ptolemy, told them to arrest Bagoas and hold him for questioning. He knew Alexander would not interfere as this was a matter of his personal safety. So, under their excellent care, he left the boy to stew, while he went to his own quarters to sleep, for it was something he found himself in great need of. When he awoke the next noon, he found Ptolemy and discussed things with him. Satisfied with what he heard from Ptolemy, but still unwilling to let things drop he discussed as much with Krateros, who considered he had more important things to do than consider the disposition of a eunuch. He had seen the boy for himself; indeed, most of the camp had, and decided it was not something he would concern himself with. Alexander's fancies were not his concern. Indeed, how could they even be certain this creature was male? He had no balls! That decided it for Krateros.

However, Ptolemy was not so wont to ignore the matter, and like Hephaistion had questioned him, with Puekestas and Perdikkas present, as both spoke Persian. Contented with his answers, he had allowed for Bagoas' return to his duties with Alexander, but agreed Hephaistion should for himself decide. So, he would arrive unannounced at Alexander's tent. He had arranged with Krateros some context to get Alexander away from his quarters so he could question Bagoas' undisturbed.

Thus it was late in the afternoon when Peritas flew, with a chorus of excited barking to the tent entrance and rose to his full height knocking Hephaistion back as he entered unannounced, in his usual manner. He laughed and ruffled the dog's golden head as he laved Hephaistion's face with his long tongue.

"My Lord Hephaistion." Bagoas bowed elegantly before him and served him refreshment. Hephaistion's first instinct was to see if the boy would complain of his treatment of the night before, but he stayed quiet and saw to his duties. He must have bathed, as his person was impeccable, not a hair out of place, his garments fresh and perfumed, his manner pleasant and undisturbed. Not what Hephaistion might have expected from one so newly come from Ptolemy or Krateros' care. Though Krateros dismissed the boy with little concern, he would undoubtedly have been exceptionally vulgar, and rough in his treatment of him. Indeed, this was something Krateros excelled in when called for, which could be whenever he felt like it.

As Hephaistion looked around, he had to admit Alexander's tent was a great deal neater since the Persian had come into his service. The King's pages tried, but they were burdened by many other more pressing duties. Also, it appeared from his questioning of Ptolemy and Krateros, the ever present stream of surrendering Persian nobility seemed now to run more smoothly. Alexander would use the boy as interpreter and, thus far it had gone well, more smoothly, and it seemed, by what was heard from Perdikkas, who also acted as interpreter, it made Alexander's state more impressive, something that was imperative to the success of their operations. Were this so, it had been on a wise choice on Alexander's part. Still, he would see…

He had noted last night the constant clutter of papers and documents of state that seemed to follow Alexander were now ordered and tucked away neatly. He also noticed new, fine, richly ornamented Persian and Egyptian furniture and rugs, spreads and pillows bedecked Alexander's sleeping quarters. Secretly Hephaistion was pleased that Alexander allowed himself some luxuries, especially when Philotas bragged constantly of the state and quality of his own suite. However, was that all that was being changed?

"The King is not here, my lord. He has gone to the stables to see Bucc... Bucs.." the boy shook his head and frowned trying to pronounce the difficult Macedonian word.

"Boukepahlos." Hephaistion answered curtly. The boy's great beauty was intoxicating; there was no other word for it. That he would use him for such skills as diplomatic, aye, he agreed, but that did not call for his need here, at such close proximity. What was Alexander, who carped so on his constant need for self-control playing at?

As Hephaistion looked through some dispatches about the situation with the fleet, he wondered who was this youth Bagoas who so willingly served a foreign king? Why had he not taken his freedom, but instead he'd chosen to align himself to a harsher life than the one with Darius?

Hephaistion's first instincts told him then that there was nothing untoward in this boy's nature that would harm Alexander. Yet, Hephaistion knew his burden and must be sure beyond all doubt. One could be fooled all too easily especially when lulled to complacency by the evidence of great devotion.

As he watched Bagoas' move about the tent, it was clear by his actions, his work was a labor of love. He went about his duties light-heartedly, singing or humming. He also kept a running conversation up with Peritas that amused Hephaistion. He knew it amused Alexander who said he was waiting to see Bagoas' reaction should one day Peritas be gifted by the gods with a speaking tongue.

Last night Alexander had shared that he felt that Bagoas had already come to love him. Indeed, this was something he could well understand, there was something in Alexander's nature that caused intense devotion and love. Perhaps it was in his ability to see the good in each man and help them strive for it themselves. Perhaps it was a gift from the gods. Whatever its cause, Hephaistion knew all too well the strong, unshakable desire that had possessed him to not only serve Alexander but to love him, passionately. Indeed, sometimes it felt that his love was possessive, so deep and all-encompassing it was. He was also aware, as many who were not, that Alexander had a deep need of it. However, that deep need also left Alexander open to harm.

Hephaistion thought that perhaps it had been the constant pull between his two warring parents that had created the great need in Alexander. Not only did Alexander seem to need love in all its forms, but he himself, constantly strove to show the proofs of it to others. He gave greatly to others, often sparing little for himself. An unworthy man might say he was trying to buy that which for himself he did not so easily possess, but Hephaistion knew this was not so. To give both of himself and that which he possessed was natural to Alexander. He was unselfish in that way. It was only with himself that he was sparing.

He settled himself behind the desk and stroked Peritas' silky head which came and lay beside him.

"Bagoas, I would speak with you. Please sit." He indicated one of the many stools dotted about the work area. The boy obeyed him immediately keeping his head bowed respectfully. So far he'd seen nothing to indicate that the young Persian was anything in his manner to Alexander but obedient and as honest in his desire to serve him as he'd proclaimed. Still, one never knew. Watching him Hephaistion was reminded of a sleek, graceful cat, beautiful to watch, but deadly just the same. He was a product of the corrupt and decadent Persian court, one had to be wary.

"Look to me, not the ground."

This seemed to disconcert Bagoas, whose cheeks colored and Hephaistion frowned. A man who would not meet his eyes was a man to suspect. Then he reminded himself the boy was from a court where one did not look into the face of one's betters.

"Are you content with your duties here?"

"Oh, aye, my Lord." Hephaistion noted that Bagoas raised his head slightly and smiled in Peritas' direction, but he was still looking at the ground.

"Keep your eyes upon my face. There is no reason to bow to me. I would that we speak openly to one another."

"I am sorry my Lord." He began to bow his head and then jerked it back up his face flooding with color. Hephaistion could read the open fear in his dark gaze. Good, however, it could be a trick to disarm him. 'Remember who he was and whom he served.' Hephaistion reminded himself. 'Such beauty can be used to lure one's prey.'

"You like Peritas? He is a good dog, when he wants to be." Hephaistion stroked the dog's head and smiled. "I warn you never tease him with food in your hand. He will take the food and your hand, as well." Bagoas' smiled and laughed a little when Hephaistion held up his bandaged fingers. He had taunted the dog unmercifically at supper the night before with half a chicken, and his bandaged fingers were the unfortunate result, as Alexander had said, 'twas his own fault.

"You saw then?"

"Aye, my Lord."

"So, what did you think of that? Was Peritas bad to bite me for taunting him so?"

"Aye, my Lord." Hephaistion pursed his mouth in irritation that was the answered he'd expected. Bagoas' manner was also precisely what he expected subservient, polite, respectful and safe. There was nothing of the true youth in it, nothing more than court etiquette and that exquisite smile. What he wanted was to unmask the youth who lived behind those languorous eyes, so he decided to pursue him.

"You answer so readily, so perfectly, you are a credit to your master. He has trained you well, I can see this." The boy did not respond, indeed none was called for.

"Have you no opinion of your own, Bagoas? Or was that taken from you when they took your balls? Or is it that one such as yourself, a barbarian eunuch," He spat out the words as though they carried the hate of every Hellene for the last two centuries behind them. "Cannot have an opinion? Not that Alexander cares. He is not interested in your opinions. Your pretty face, and sweet voice, yes; your tight ass and skillful mouth – I've no doubt, but your opinions…" He laughed swinging his hand in the air as though to brush away a bad smell and stared at the boy. Hephaistion allowed his eyes to wander rudely over the boy's graceful form. He was waiting to see what it would take to anger him.

However, Hephaistion had noticed, through careful observation that in spite of living at the exotic Persian court there seemed more to this elegant youth than a sensual nature and sense of intrigue. Indeed, how much of that was a mask developed for protection?

"I think for Alexander," Hephaistion continued impressed at Bagoas' self-control. "He would only care that you serve him well, in all the ways he desires." He did notice the faint flush of color rising in the delicate face, but that was the only change he could see. He could not know what Bagoas' heart might tell him. "Tell me, Bagoas do your gods' gift your people with intelligence or can you only kneel in subjugation and bend over?"

Hephaistion waited for the explosion of outrage that any Hellene or Macedonian would have given him. Indeed, had he been speaking to Alexander, Krateros or any number of the Companions he'd be plucking a dagger from his gut right now. He sifted through some of the scrolls stacked on the desk and casually knocked them to the floor. With a gentle smile Bagoas picked them up and set them back on the desk. This completed he sat back down on his stool.

"So, you are slow to show your temper. Or you at least have control over it. That is an admirable quality. Many a man on the battlefield would be so well off to have such control." Again, Bagoas said nothing, but sat quietly, politely at attention. Hephaistion was privately impressed, thinking of several pages who could take a lesson from the boy's manner.

"Are we to have a stalemate then?" Hephaistion drummed his fingers impatiently along the ridge of the desk and allowed his irritation to show openly. "Ah, nai, perhaps you will not speak until spoken to first. Very well, let us go back to the matter of Peritas." Who looked up eyes bright, tail wagging at the sound of his name. "Surely you do not blame a dog for acting out his nature?" He watched the boy who seemed to be frowning. Hadn't he expected this? Surely he must have known he could not pass unchecked into Alexander's life and the Macedonian camp. For a moment the boy said nothing, Hephaistion could almost read the thoughts as they passed through Bagoas' head. He could read them in the lovely eyes.

"My Lord, you did bate him. He was only doing what was, as you say, in his nature." A smile rose on Bagoas' face, but it was not as sweet as the ones he had seen him show Alexander. It held the breath of challenge in it and Hephaistion felt something uncoil in himself. "And lest you think I parrot your words, one must be prepared for the consequences of one's action, and not expect a dog who has a mouth not to use it to gain what he needs and wants."

'Ah,' Thought Hephaistion, with a smile that no one who knew him would mistake as anything but challenging, 'The leopard is at last showing his Persian spots. "And what would a dog expect to gain by using his mouth?"

"That, my Lord, depends on what the dog is hungry for." Bagoas turned his eyes that suddenly showed intelligence and shrewdness that belied his seventeen years in challenge toward the dark blue ones bearing down upon him. "You taunted Peritas with chicken knowing his desire would soon outweigh his patience. So you were wounded in your game, and he prevailed against you."

"So, I am wrong to complain of my bitten fingers?"

"There is no fault in complaint, my lord, one may complain of anything, even ball-less barbarians complain, but would one not be wise to know that it is not worth one's efforts to tease a dog?"

"It gives good sport."

"It is a game then?" Bagoas folded his arms across his chest and sat watching Hephaistion. Hephaistion noted he had no problem meeting his eyes now. Indeed, they seemed to bare down upon him, as though trying to lay him open and see beneath the skin. Peritas rose to his feet and whined loudly pawing at Hephaistion, aware of the subtle shift of emotions in the tent. "Then one must be aware, no doubt, that even a tame dog may run wild if let go from man long enough should the game go on past its natural limit of patience."

"Nai, but the dog needs man to live, to feed him."

"Nai, but the dog must eat to live, my lord, and if hungry enough may turn on his master."

"Hmmm," Hephaistion had not expected anywhere near the quick thinking coming from the youth before him. "So, let us have it in the open then Bagoas, whose dog are you?"

Bagoas inclined his head gracefully, "I am the King's, Iskander's, servant, my lord."

"Why should I believe you? Why not still Darius'?"

"My lord, the dog must eat to live."

"You can do that with Nabarzanes or a host of other Persian lords, again, whose dog are you?"

"I am not a dog, my lord, but I do wish to survive." Hephaistion couldn't help but smile at the small hint of protest in the boy's voice.

"Why?"

"Because I wish to live and I have a better chance with your King than with mine, who alas, is no more." Not a blink of the eye, not even the slightest hint of tears for his dead master. Hmmm… did he have no care for the man? Did it matter, Hephaistion asked himself allowing the briefest of smiles. Had he cared for Darius, as a man it would, have mattered.

Hephaistion smiled widely and began to laugh. "Finally, at least you are honest!"

"Honest and perhaps an admitted opportunist." Bagoas permitted himself the pleasure of sincerity for perhaps the first time in years. To have been so at Darius' court would have been akin to accepting a death sentence without committing a crime. "I have no desire to be a servant all my life, I am young there is much that interests me in life. Coming over to Iskander serves my needs." Bagoas admitted with a little smile that he adjusted as he saw the remittance of it in Hephaistion's.

"So let us understand one another then." Hephaistion said as he rose from the chair to pace slowly before Bagoas. "Serve Alexander, indeed, I welcome you there, and rise as high as he'll allow it, but cross me and I will see you dead."

"Are we rivals then?"

Hephaistion laughed, so loudly that Peritas jumped up barking. He moved closer to Bagoas, with Peritas trailing him and stood until so close to him he could smell the scent in his hair. "Rivals? You wish to replace Patroklos?"

Bagoas' frowned shaking his head, his long hair brushing Hephaistion's arm. He looked up calmly into Hephaistion's face. "My Lord, I do not seek your place, perhaps you misunderstand me. I know who you are and honor it."

Hephaistion leaned forward, so close their foreheads touched, his eyes snapping cold fire. "Have done with the court games, you know my meaning."

Then Hephaistion read the clarity in the dark brown orbs and knew he spoke the truth. "I wish no harm to the King; it was one of the last desires of my Lord, Darius... "Ah, finally emotion. Hephaistion thought, pleased and relieved. As Bagoas turned away briefly, he caught the grimace of the lips as they had begun to turn downward. He heard the hard fought soft inward sigh. He watched with cold eyes as the boy regained his composure and turned back to face him. "Nabarzanes believed, as did my dead Lord, Darius, I could help ease the passing of power to Iskander. They had read the signs and known them to be true. It has long been prophesied in the Chaldean Astronomical texts that the golden man from Hellas, Iskander, the son of the god would to rule. It is my wish to serve him."

Hephaistion sighed feeling a relief he had not expected. Yet he was not quite ready to end it, "Why? Why do you want to serve? It is admirable, I can understand, but what are you getting out of it? You are not Hellene; you will gain no rank or title here, no great riches. Why then?"

Bagoas looked at the ground, clearly lost in thought, "I… can not say all of it, for it is a mystery to myself. I only know that I feel compelled by some god to serve Iskander. I feel some pull toward him." Hephaistion shook his head slowly in agreement, for how long now had he felt the same? Was it the first moment when his eyes had met Alexander's? Had he known somehow then that his life would forever be with intertwined with his? Or was it as far back as his third birthday when he'd followed the star that lead him toward Pella? Had it always been ordained?

"Yes, that I can understand. I thought as much, as does Alexander. I did not think you were so shallow a creature that you would only bend to kings and then spend your days as do the eunuchs of the harem." He turned toward a small table and poured two cups of wine. He handed one to Bagoas.

Bagoas raised a black eyebrow at the comment and the unexpected gesture as he took the cup handed him. Feeling suddenly unsure he sipped the wine, but could not look up.

. "It is well then that we understand one another." Hephaistion said as he roused himself, watching the boy. He admired his composure, save for the rise of color he was unmovable. Oh, his heart might be beating wildly beneath his rich and exotic garb, but one would never know. He could feel unexpected respect welling up inside of him for the young Persian. He found himself fascinated by the boy, not just by what he was but that he seemed to have accepted his life, and not with resignation but with a sense of pride.

He also felt perhaps Alexander was correct, that he was much more than a eunuch. Alexander, felt there was a soul living in the splendid form before him; a beautiful soul. Only he and Alexander spoke of these things, the others, even Ptolemy would have scoffed at their thinking. To them unless one was Hellene or Macedonian, one was a barbarian and soulless.

Yet he and Alexander they had long been sure that there were some people, even among the barbarians who were different. Alexander believed Bagoas to be one such as this. Indeed, he believed that was something that drew Alexander, that, and he smiled at this; his penchant for beautiful boys. Bagoas had indeed been gifted by Eros, possibly beyond all expectation for Hephaistion could not think of another he'd seen, man nor woman more striking. Yet, for all his beauty he was not Alexander. Alexander was beyond mortal beauty, none could match him.

"Then let us drink to an understanding between us." Hephaistion tipped his cup a bit for the libation and watched as Bagoas did the same. "Bagoas, you have pleased me thus far, though I will be watchful of you. Should I feel you have lied to me, on even the smallest thing I will not hesitate to kill you, and you may be assured, on this Alexander will not argue." Bagoas nodded, his eyes showing only respect.

"Have you nothing to say to that?" Hephaistion raised an eyebrow studying the lad. It would take much to cause him to lose his composure. This, indeed, was good. He would serve Alexander well, perhaps…well, perhaps now, he could rest more easily knowing Alexander was cared for when he was not present.

"My Lord, were I in your place, I would do the same."

"Bagoas?" At length, satisfied as much as he could be for now, Hephaistion rose heading for his own quarters then stopped for a moment his hand resting on the tent flap as he stood in the entry way. He turned and met the Persian eye to eye. "Do not, ever tell Alexander he is a god. He is Hellene, not Persian. Do you understand me?"

Bagoas met his gaze, he knew that Hephaistion was aware of what he was asking of him, and for a Persian it was near impossible to accept, but he because this man, this second self of the Great King he had come to love asked, he would accept. He bowed his head, "Aye, Lord Hephaistion, I will do as you ask."

Hephaistion stared at the boy then turned without further word and walked away. His mind played over their conversation, he would replay it and study it thoroughly, every aspect of what he had seen, heard and felt again until he was truly satisfied, then he would share it with Alexander.

Bagaos watched Hephaistion become lost to his sight as he mixed into the ever busy human parade that trod the great camp's many streets. He could only think it was no wonder the King did honor the man so. However, he did not understand why he would concern himself with one such as he; a mere eunuch, especially to do him a kindness. He looked at the cup he held in his hand and touched it, wondering. Never before in all his years in service had anyone in a station above him done anything as simple or kind as pour him a cup of water without asking for something physical in return. This man, however, had asked something of him as one man to another, almost as though he were an equal, a gift that had never been given him before. He would honor that trust. Hephaistion would never know how much he'd been moved by that simple act.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.3

By Lysis

About a week after Book I.2., Bagoas reflects on Hephaistion and what he has observed about his relationship with Alexander.

* * *

As Helios drew down upon the land, his chariot lit the surrounding sky setting it ablaze. Bagoas stood leaning against one of the thick poles holding up the green leather awning at the entrance of the King's tent. Shielding his eyes against the glare, he watched Helios' torch the heavens with a pathway of changing fire. Crimson and orange flashed and flared upward then burned out slowly fading to shadows of blue, violet and green on toward the endless horizon. With a soft sigh of wonder he turned his thoughts back to his work, his mind rapt by the perfection of nature and how in his great wisdom Ahura-Mazda could create such beauty day after day and not repeat anything even once.

Softly, his bare feet making little noise upon the richly colored carpets that had caught his eye catching him up in memories of a way of life lost to him now. However, he did not mourn it. Indeed, he found himself greeting each day with a pleasure he had not felt since before he was taken to the great palace of Susa in his tenth year. That year his life had changed dramatically, but he would not think on those changes now. The King was entertaining this night, and he had work before him. He would not let anything bar or disturb this event, not even the rudeness of some of the King's pages. He glanced up and smiled a perfectly composed court smile as he passed the small chamber where the pages spent their time when not on immediate call. He knew they gossiped about him. Some of them unaware he spoke Hellene, would speak to him as though he were a dog, the youth Hermalaos, in particular. Whenever Bagoas would speak with Peritas and this page and his companion, Stratton were present on duty, they would mimic him. He would not deign to respond to their ill humor. Nor would he tell Iskander of it. Unfortunately, he would learn soon enough, knowing the ways of court, Persian or otherwise, such things always came out.

So, good humor, humming softly to himself, he made his way toward the king's inner chambers intent upon the evening's preparation. There was to be a special supper, with Persian noblemen attending and certain of the King's companions, the generals Perdikkas, Ptolemy, Krateros, Philotas, and the ever present Hephaistion.

While he worked kindling twin brass and gilt trimmed braziers with aromatic gums that were reminiscent of pine forests, which Iskander had requested, he recalled something the Lord Hephaistion had said at supper a few nights back about there being an infinite number of variables for everything in the Universe. A discussion on philosophy had ensued which he had followed hungrily, but even if he had been invited to partake in it, he could not have, he hadn't the learning. He wished he could have asked the King's companion more about his thoughts, but being half in awe and half afraid of the man, he did not. At one point the Lord Hephaistion had caught him out and he had been ashamed of himself for being so forward as to listen, but he had been entranced with the arguments flung back and forth, but rather than chastise him, the man had surprised him when he had flashed him a friendly smile. How he wished he too had the benefit of such education Iskander and his closet companions had been favored with. Truly, he thought, a man whose eyes have been opened by wisdom will never be blind.

He turned his thoughts again to the bold warrior who was the King's dearest _Hetaroi_; he tried the word on repeating it again slowly to himself. It carried a weight that spoke of a rare and special place in the King's life. Like Iskander, there was something about the general, Hephaistion that demanded you notice him. He seemed to have a gift for languages and learned Persian with ease. Bagoas knew he was already much admired by the Persians who came to see Iskander. He treated them with careful, respectful courtesy and not the open distain of the many Macedonian's or Hellenes.

Aye, Hephaistion could have a temper, nearly as bad as the King's so it was said, but that he had not yet seen. Were it near the heat of Hephaistion's it would be mighty. He had heard him dressing down a file of troops, and not all of them were young and untested in battle; and then in argument with general Philotas. He already knew what it was to cross him. Bagoas firmly believed that had Hephaistion been displeased with any of his responses when he had interrogated him his head would now be long separated from his body. For good or bad the man was not one who was easily forgotten.

Before he had come with the Lord Nabarzanes to Iskander, Bagoas had made a point to learn all he could not only about the King, but also those closest to him. Lord Nabarzanes had recounted how the Queen Mother, in error had mistaken Lord Hephaistion as king. When he'd heard what Iskander had actually said in response to her mistake, that Lord Hephaistion was also Iskander, he had known immediately this beautiful, bold warrior was the other half of the power that was Iskander. He'd known then why Lord Nabarzanes had pressed him so hard to succeed in this – obtaining and keeping a place in Iskander's court. He felt that in spite of Iskander's delight with him, he would not be fully accepted until the King's companion did so as well.

For if one was to understand a man one must look to his companions for further knowledge, and so he had. He knew Iskander greatly favored his closest companions, especially those who with whom he had shared his boyhood. If he had not already known, that the King and the general were intimate companions, he would not have been surprised. They were not overt about it, indeed, both men carried themselves with great dignity, but Bagoas knew something about the arts of Eros, and it was clear by their manner with one another that they were lovers. It was also clear that this was not in any danger of lessening.

This made for a very powerful bond, one Bagoas had never experienced for himself, but it was his secret wish that he too, might, one day share such a bond. Until he had met Iskander, he had given it thought, but never truly given such thoughts voice, but now he had, if only in softest whisper. He wished it so, and prayed to the gods that Hephaistion would not discover the tenor of his heart, for he feared what he might do. For how could he, a eunuch of seventeen years compete with the stunning, bold masculine beauty of a man like the Lord Hephaistion? Oh, he knew his own worth and beauty, but to see Iskander's eyes shine as they had this morn…

Iskander had been at council with his generals and when Hephaistion had approached to pass him some papers, the King's eyes had become tender, almost luminous for a moment, and a soft smile had played about his mouth when their eyes had met. The King had brushed his fingers along the general's wrist lingering there a moment. A small mischievous smile had crept upon the general's lips, which the king had answered. Bagoas had shamelessly spied upon them from behind a curtain, and then cursed himself for his curiosity wishing… Ah, it was no use wishing he had told himself, but he had wished it was into his eyes Iskander had gazed so, and his wrist those long, bold fingers had caressed.

There was a charming, boyish quality about Lord Hephaistion at times that Bagoas had observed; it was clear it enchanted the King. He'd noticed that they both enjoyed teasing one another and seemed to have a secret language of words and gestures that only they knew. Bagoas had seen this used during a long supper with the older general Parmenion and his son, the general Philotas. Lord Philotas was going on at length about a new string of racing horses he was set on acquiring when Bagoas had seen Iskander lean over and say what sounded like nonsense to Lord Hephaistion. Lord Hephaistion had answered him back in the odd tongue, with a mischievous glint in his eye. Bagoas then realized Lord Ptolemy had smiled at both of them, and shook his head in agreement as though he too knew their secret language. This man, also a general, the Lord Ptolemy, he was a curious man… Some said he was the king's own bastard half brother. If so, it was most odd he still lived. Certainly, Darius would have not allowed such a man to live while he sat upon the throne, but he was learning Iskander was unlike any other king, or man.

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.4.

Continues from Book I.3 same evening.

* * *

As he gave direction to the slaves to begin preparations for the king's supper, Bagoas stole a glance at the Egyptian, Setapas, who sat quietly in a corner fair copying something the King had given him. His present manner and look declared him a scribe, but the man swore he was a slave, and the King treated him with great deference as though he were neither or something more. Whatever his rank, his presence continued to mystify him. The man had presented himself at Bagoas' quarters within a few days of his interrogation by Hephaistion. His first thought upon seeing the tall, slender, elegantly handsome Egyptian was he had been sent to spy upon him. And he may well have been, Bagoas had decided, but not for the reasons he had at first contemplated.

Working quickly for time was growing short Bagoas pulled a fine cloth of linen from one of the king's storage chests. With a gleam white as fresh snow and expertly woven the linen was so delicate it felt cool and smooth as India silk beneath his fingertips. Minute scenes picked out in great detail in silver and gold thread from the King's triumph at the Granikos River spilled across the cloth in a fable like tableau.

He spread the sumptuous Egyptian cloth with great care across a skillfully wrought table of ebony and ivory that would hold a large wine krater. Both the krater and its matching cups were gold wrought and on one side depicted the King as a glorious youth taming his beloved Boukepahlos; the other showed him crowned with laurel holding a thunderbolt. It had been a gift from the gold merchant's guild in Pella, upon his accession to the throne. This was explained in detail by the fastidiously elegant, black bearded solider, Chares, who acted as Chamberlin to the King. He had looked Bagoas up and down for several minutes before he nodded his allowance of him to touch this object of worship.

Smoothing imaginary wrinkles from the cloth Bagoas' fingers trembled with reverent worship he touched the tiny golden figure with the plumed helmet riding on the warhorse with sword upraised before the Persian forces that fought and fell across the ivory fabric before him.

"What makes those great eyes shine so?" Bagoas looked up meeting Setapas' curious gaze. He smiled in answer, made a light comment upon the beauty of the night, but could see that Setapas was not to be misled.

"Either it is the Great RA whose countenance makes yours to shine so, or you are contemplating mischief." Bagoas looked up his face flushing, half a mind to remind the Egyptian of his place, but if the man was truly a slave, then Peritas would ride the King's favored horse, Boukepahlos into the next battle. And, much as it was a sight that might tickle and delight the senses the unlikeliness of it stuck with him. One could imagine anything, but that did not make it so. It was not the way of such things. It was on the tip of his tongue to challenge the man, but then he knew better than most what fate could befall men in time of war. Indeed, the gods were both kind and cruel, and gave no explanation or thought as to why. Bagoas had long decided it was up to each man to temper by the steel of his own conscience how he made peace with such trials.

"I have offended you, I apologize." Setapas bowed low before the young Persian who immediately became flustered.

"Non, oh, non…:" Bagoas frowned, and his long black tresses perfumed the air with jasmine as they flew toward Setapas' face as he bent toward the man intent on what he did not know. He only knew he liked the Egyptian and had no wish to insult him, though tradition said they should be enemies. "I...truly, I am only taken up with thoughts of this night. Iskander wishes the supper to be a success, and I…I…"

"All will be well, I have no doubt, nor does the Great RA, for he would not show such confidence in you with this work should he doubt you. You have such skills that no one else within this camp possesses, and you will see that his guests are treated with the respect and dignity deserving of them. That his Chamberlin has shown respect for your station is a good sign and should bolster your confidence. Your manner is everything he wishes to convey to his guests. I do not doubt he will be greatly pleased." Setapas bowed low, his long dark eyes shining with the confidence his words revealed.

A moment passed as each man spent his gaze upon the other, reading and sizing up the other who stood before him. Finally with a sublime grace that would cause even the loveliest of women to swoon over, Bagoas pulled himself up and with a narrowing of his lovely eyes addressed him. "Who are you, truly? A slave, perhaps, by recent misfortune, but not so long as what you have once and always been." Setapas bowed low again, his fine eyes gleaming.

"I am as you say, a slave."

"Non, you have not the ways of such. If this is true, then I am a greater fool than I have allowed myself to be. Your manner is of one who has been served, and is used to being served."

"Perhaps, but now…"

"'Twas the Persian yoke your downfall? And why, if so, do you not seek every opportunity to discredit me, for indeed, you would have those who would aid you. You can say I am a slave who was once a man, and that one, the Persian, the soft barbarian, has made me so. They will take up your cause, I think, for they ha…" When Bagoas' stopped speaking and his gaze slid toward the outer door way, where the King's pages were, Setapas did not answer immediately, but rather began to check the plate and linen for the supper. Then at length he spoke.

"Do not let those of little heart bring down your great one, Bagoas. They are boys who play at men. The Great RA does not ask them to be anything but what they are; that they cannot or do not is not to his discredit, nay, for he is not the one who raised them, though, I know, the King is one who bears his responsibilities to heart."

"Indeed…" Bagoas whispered softly to himself his mind falling back to the night before, when Hermalaos and Stratton, two of the king's pages had come on duty. He had offered them no insult, and bowed as he would to anyone, but they returned his courtesy with filthy looks and muttered obscenities. He offered his court smile, bland and polite, but they had begun with great intent to insult, begun to recount the king's victory at Granikos and belittle the bravery of those great officers who had fought for Darius as though they had been little more than mad dogs.

This battle had been spoken of with great hope at Darius' court. It had been the Persian expectation to cut the young Hellene King down there at the Granikos River. The Great King had amassed his most brilliant and powerful warlords against the Hellenes. Yet, the Hellene's had had the gods on their side that day and Iskander had prevailed. He knew Iskander had been wounded, his scalp slashed by Rhoseaces' sword.

Blinking back unexpected tears Bagoas had sat down suddenly as memories flooded him.

The lithe, elegant black bearded Rhoesaces had been one of Darius' best officers and an exceedingly brave man and a friend to Bagoas. One of the true friends he actually had at court. His family had known Rhoesaces' whose ancestral home was near Persepolis where he raised his prized horses for the Great King's stables. It was from Rhoseaces' own stock that he'd chosen his beloved Nissian, Phoenix. Darius had mourned him as had the entire court. For Bagoas in some ways his death had been like that of losing a father, leaving a void that nothing could fill.

He had seen how Hermalaos had nudged Stratton at his tears. Both had laughed and openly made rude comments, but he ignored them. He would not let such childish behavior mar his memories or draw him into a fight. That was surely what they intended, but he would not give them that satisfaction. They would learn soon enough through Iskander, whom he'd noticed was very strict with his pages about the world they were now part of.

However, that had not eased the loss of those brave warriors, some whom he had personally come to know. He had had few true friends at Darius' court, indeed, one such as he so highly favored, walked a fine, lonely line. He was young yet, near the age of these pages, and part of him longed for the friendly companionship he saw in the camp, but he knew that would not happen, at least not with these two.

His desire to please Iskander was foremost in his heart, and when in those minutes and hours they were together, though not yet as fully as he dreamt, he knew he had found what he sought, something richer than the low companionship of these ill-bred pages… He believed with Iskander he would be rewarded with that rare companionship that had always eluded him, yet he was not fool or precipitate enough to rush it. He would never be so presumptuous, yet he knew the ways of men and the signs of Eros and had hope, perhaps…

Coming back to the present, he shut his eyes for a moment wishing he could have been at the Granikos, watching, seated on Phoenix's back, sword in hand, as Iskander led his valiant warriors up the steep and muddy banks of the Granikos onward to fame and everlasting glory. He had yet to see him in battle and hoped he would be allowed that precious gift one day. So far Iskander treated him with great care and consideration, clearly he knew as his previous rank had required, but part of him longed to be as the Lord Hephaistion was to Iskander. The light that shone in those beautiful grey eyes whenever they beheld the man caused such pain within Bagoas' own heart. For that is what he had wished to be, a man complete.

He thought it unfortunate the red haired youth, Hermalaos, was so silly, for he had the King's favor just now. He had been asked to play for the King's guests later. Bagoas could wish him ill, but that would displease Iskander should he perform badly, and he would not wish anything that might harm his Lord. He didn't care for Hermalaos' looks as such, but then again, most Hellenes were too red and unrefined for Persian taste. Only Lord Hephaistion and one or two others would catch the eye of a Persian. Yet, the King had an eye for him, remarking he reminded him of a friend, and had lately taken to him and asked him to attend him personally when Bagoas was not able.

"The King will have his eye on you this night, Bagoas, not only to look to see that things are as he wishes, but with pleasure, as he has had on other nights." Setapas shook his sleek, dark head, his black eyes clear with perfect meaning at Bagoas' questioning look. "Oh, aye, he is curious, and more I think, for your person is intriguing and I believe he is a man who is open to new things..." He paused a moment as he folded his tools into a beautiful tooled red leather belt. "Do not be as the thief who after long hesitation steals into the tomb, only to find that in his delay another has been there before him and emptied it. Be carefully watchful and you will see what I have seen within his eyes when they dwell upon you." He bowed in that elegant, purely Egyptian manner once more and left Bagoas alone with his thoughts and hopeful heart.

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.5

The King's supper party...

* * *

Roses, varied in scent and richly vibrant hue perfumed and decorated the great tent chamber where the King's supper feast would soon commence. They had been imported from warmer climes at great cost for this feast. Their sweetness mingled enticingly with the savory aroma of roasting meat, baking bread and rich wines which the King's pages under the direction of Chares, the King's Chamberlin were being cut with cold mountain spring water. Standing near the entrance to the large tent which held seventy couches, Bagoas directed eight young pages, clad only in the yellow bordered cloak of their office and selected for their grace and look to be among the first, along with Chares and Bagoas to greet the King's guests. After appropriate greetings upon Chares and Bagoas' part, each guest's hands would be bathed in the Persian manner. Chares snorted, but did not look displeased as under Bagoas' direction the careful tradition of washing the hands was explained as he added great handfuls of rose petals to the great gold basins of warm water. He had personally seen to the polishing of each of the four large bowls and smaller golden ewers that Bagoas was using to demonstrate how a guest should hold his hands over the basin and the water from the ewer would be spilled out over them. He handed each boy a snowy linen towel and gestured toward the pile behind them on a cedar wood table should they require more.

"These Persianized traditions, they do not seem so barbaric. Indeed, I see much to be said for removing one's shoes upon entering the King's tent…or any tent for that measure especially when the ground is muddied." Chares remarked as he watched as several thick, brightly colored Persian rugs were laid down across the wide expanse of dirt floor. Smoothing down the folds of his finely embroidered robe of dark red Kos wool, he sniffed a moment, the golden braclets on his arms gleaming in the lamp light while holding back a sneeze, and frowned. For some reason he always sneezed around roses. It perplexed him endlessly. His gaze ran over Bagoas who was laughing with two of the pages, both golden haired Ganymedes'. "Where is the Egyptian?" He inquired though he already knew the answer, indeed it was one Bagoas need not answer, but he did as he liked the blond bearded Chares and his careful manners.

"He has work for the King to see to in another place this night." Bagoas smiled in answer as he strode toward a small closet nearby, and picked up the gleaming peacock blue jacket of his suit from a small stool hidden in the shadows. Quickly, grinning at Chares' nod of approval, he buttoned the gold gilded blue lapis buttons up the front, and put gold and lapis hoops in his ears, and a matched strand of beads about his neck.

"Ah…indeed. I like that color, you know the King is quite fond of peacocks." Was Chares response, thinking at the same time of the Egyptian, Setapas who might not take kindly to the sight of so many Persians, and the young Persian whom he knew had caught the King's eye. Silently Chares wished the boy good fortune, ennuch or no, he was much more biddable and easier to control than Hephaistion, the King's ever present shadow.

Bagoas reading approval in Chares' blue eyes thought of Setapas and Iskander being ever conscious of other's feelings had given him leave to seek his evening' pleasure elsewhere.

* * *

The evening began, and with eyes full of adoration at the sight of Alexander, who was dressed with careful sophistication in a gold trimmed robe of rich Tyrian purple Bagoas' heart was in a state of perpetual delight. The King's person and golden hair which was crowned, like his guests with slender pine wreaths that smelt of forests, deep, strong and full of mystery and grace. Gold braclets glittered at his wrists and muscular biceps, and upon his feet were silver trimmed sandals stamped with golden disks. His blue-grey eyes, shinned with inner warmth that Bagoas could feel like a tangible thing, as the rays of the sun warm and comforting upon one's shoulder. His presence drew each man onward as though to the god himself, for he was all that was glorious and godlike in the eyes of many whom sat before him.

As the Persian nobles approached, each man richly dressed in his best, Bagoas watched proudly as with great reverence each man prostrated himself before the King. With a perfect understanding, as though he had been born in the hallowed halls of Persepolis, and not the marble chambers of Macedon, the King's grace received and reflected his pleasure and delight at the honor paid him. With that obvious ease of the superb athlete that he was Alexander rose to greet his guests taking them by the shoulders for the kiss of greeting. When Hephaistion approached, his person adorned with gold ornaments, and performed the prostration and upon rising their eyes met, every man present could feel the personification of _Tykhe _dwelling in the king's person. His eyes met Hephaistion's darker violet ones and as he placed the kiss upon his lips, the room seemed lit from some invisible incandescence that caught all present up in its great glow. Only a few, like sour faced Philotas, who as Bagoas quickly discovered was not at all pleased with the King's every growing Persianizing appeared disgruntled.

Krateros, whose tall, lithe frame was stretched with great ease upon his own couch, caught Bagoas' eye a moment. He winked and smiled leeringly at him. He was said to be a great one for the ladies as was Philotas and Bagoas could see how Krateros' golden good looks would please the eye, for he was a handsome man. His manner could be beyond crude and as coarse as any man could possibly be, or at least that had been Bagoas' experience of him thus far, and he wondered privately, why Iskander did not seek that the man correct it. For it was said next to Hephaistion, this man was held in highest esteem in the King's heart. He had decided Krateros was a bit of a pirate, not only for the small gold hoops in his ears this night or his waggish grin which just now was taunting as he made some comment, not in the Hellene tongue when Hephaistion had performed the prostration. Hephaistion who had clearly been meant to hear it bore it well, ignoring the man. However, Krateros was the king's man and his praises of Alexander were heartfelt when he raised his cup later as the night grew long and sang out his tribute. He could tell by the King's response to this golden haired warrior he was much loved, so Bagoas told himself he would try to think more kindly of Krateros.

Standing near the wine table, a keen eye on the evening's progress, making sure the Persian guests had all they wished, and were treated well, Bagoas sighed softly to himself each time a fellow Persian approached the King with that exquisite grace that seemed bred in their forefathers a thousand years prior. He felt the King's status grew in their eyes as the night wore on, and he whispered praise songs to the golden ruler of his young heart. He was, however, unaware that Alexander had heard and saw the glow of worship in his eyes.

Easily, with the accustomed grace of one who has lived many years at court, Bagoas moved about the couches bringing gifts to and from the King and his guests. Done with that supreme elegance of his, he noted the clear signs of approval in the dark eyes of the Persian guests upon seeing their own state so greatly respected among the Hellene made Bagoas ever more proud of Iskander who sat side by side with his companion Lord Hephaistion.

He caught many an eye. As much as one's eye would immediately find the King, it could not help then but seek out and with obvious pleasure dwell upon the tall, princely form of Hephaistion. He was equally resplendent, in a dark, almost violet blue robe trimmed in silver. His red gold hair shone like golden fire. It was to Hephaistion as well that many of those Persian nobles present this eve had first treated with. Both he and Perdikkas spoke the tongue and were able with clear, unencumbered bias treat those who were surrendering to the King, in a manner that allowed them to carry on without the overburdening shame of the vanquished. This was of the gifts Bagoas knew Iskander had given to his peoples. He was magnanimous in his charity to those he had conquered. He saw the man and not the defeated soldier in each man, who came before him.

Hearing and understanding the varied conversations about him, Bagoas knew there was much being said that would please the King. The Persian guests were grateful to Iskander for seeing their status and honor upheld. Indeed, Darius' brother, Oxyathres, with that sublime grace he was famous for rose during the course of the evening, before the wine had got too much of the guest's attention rose and proposed a toast to the King.

His long black hair and beard combed till they shone with the finest aromatic oils and his person, like that of Hephaistion tall, proud, strong and graceful, he rose, a glittering figure, approached the King, and prostrated himself then begged the King's permission to speak. Bagoas' heart beat strongly full of pride at the noble figure approaching the King, and at the King who with the grace of one born to such things gently nodded giving Oxyathres leave to continued.

"Great King Alexander, I come before you as your most humble servant to give you praise and all honor for the graciousness of your person that has allowed this humble head to remain upright in the midst of such momentous change for my peoples. You do honor to all Persians, Great King, your magnificence of spirit and courage is praised throughout the land, and your kindness and tolerance is sung of the day long. You who have taken us up, treated us with dignity and great consideration when it is your right as conqueror to put us all to the sword, you who have upheld the dignity, purity and heart of our people when you our conqueror need not pay heed to the smallest of us, for we are the most unworthy of your great charity. You who have shown great consideration, mildness, and foresight at our state have allowed us our pride and for that Great King, who reigns in the depths of my heart I do honor and ask the gods grant you long live, many wives, and children and victories that will cause your sacred heart to swell with joy and pride. Your great deeds will live long in the memory of men to come well beyond this small place we spend ourselves upon now. I ask the gods to grant us your presence for years to come and bless and protect you so that your magnificence and courage may bless all the peoples of the earth."

Heart near to bursting as was every Persian, and not some few Macedonians and Hellenes Bagoas wiped his eyes. The King was doing likewise, his great eyes shinned with pleasure and pride as he stood and raised Oxyathres up, kissing him, calling him kindred and toasting him in return.

To be continued….


	7. Chapter 7

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.6

It is the day following Alexander's feast in honor of the Persian nobles, and he is a bit caught up in thinking about Bagoas.

* * *

Standing amid the clutch of chattering men surrounding him while he laced on the new linothorax he had ordered over his chiton, Alexander shivered. He was not cold. Nor was it too hot in the large tented chamber. But he would attest should anyone ask him, that he felt a fever come over him. It had begun just last night and not let up. In all fairness, he argued with himself, he had tried to fight it. This morn, after performing the daily sacrifice, rather than sleep in, his usual behavior following a feast that had lasted well beyond sun rise, he had run several stadia and then attended javelin practice and finally, two good bouts in the palestra. Still the fever grew. He believed he knew its source, and slowly, with that singular determination with which he had planned the siege at Tyre and taking of Gaza, he went over the cause step by step, pausing with great care to recall each scent, touch, sight, and sound, all to rekindle in his mind the exact moment of…what would he call it? Infection? Non, one did not call something so profoundly sweet by so rude a name. It was… He bit his lip, frowned, his eyes large shinning with concentration for the right word.

"Does it please you Alexander? Is it too snug, or lose? I think just here it needs to be tighter." He shook his head suddenly coming back to the present finding himself standing, surrounded by Ajax, his personal armorer, who was tapping the material over his ribs, and several Companions. Quickly catching himself up, he studied his image in the long, shinning brass mirror. It looked well on him, but would it serve? The one at Gaza had saved his life, just. This one was stronger he had it sewn with the traditional twelve layers of linen, not just one, but two of them, and in between a layer of thin overlapping metal disks. It was not too heavy. Something caught his eye in the mirror's polished surface and he smiled at the glimmer of reflection smiling back at him. The words finally came to him…longing. He had a longing that was causing the fever of desire to arise within him.

It had begun when Bagoas had kissed his hand the night prior, 'twas a small thing, a kiss to the palm. Alexander had been pleased by it and had teased him. Then, this morn, he had done the same when Bagoas had brought him a missive from Oxyathres praising Alexander for his goodness and upholding the nobility of his people the night before. He had shared the letter's contents with Bagoas, knowing it would please him. Those dark eyes had glittered with tears of joy in them, and that was when Alexander had kissed his hand. He had taken it up in his own battle scarred one, and looking the youth in his dark, exotic eyes had laid his lips against the ivory skin.

Non, a kiss to the hand is not such an unusual thing, was it not? Or perhaps it was… Alexander reflected as he swallowed feeling suddenly too warm. Bagoas, however, after their eyes had met this morn, had not just kissed the palm of his hand, again. He had kissed his fingertips, slowly and tenderly, then placing one last kiss on the palm of his left hand, then with those long fingers of his he had locked up Alexander's hand in his. Erotic desire tingled through him at the memory of those lips against his fingertips. Then he had looked up and met Bagoas' gaze…those great lustrous eyes of his and Alexander had felt as though he had, had… It was as though he was awash in wave of sensation, a Nile of flowing emotion that had threatened to drown him, but he had no desire to swim for the shore just yet. He was too intrigued. He had been on the verge of further exploration when a page had announced the arrival of Ajax, his armorer.

Only Hephaistion had ever caused such a desire to well up within him in such a manner. For a brief moment, he frowned, thinking, was this unfair? They had discussed this very subject, he and Hephaistion. Hephaistion had laughed and said if he, Alexander was able to hold fast against the Persian's enticing person then Hephaistion would give him his prized dagger of Damascus steel. (Clearly he had lost his chance for the dagger. Hephaistion would crow over that.) He had teased him mercilessly about it.

"You forget, Xandros, I know you better than anyone. Perhaps I told him all your secrets, the way you moan when I bite the back of your neck, and how you tremble and grip my hand when in the midst of –"

"You would not be so cruel!" He cut him off, feeling his color rise, and countered trying to look severe.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Hephaistion had laughed. "Oh, come, do not be so upset, I do not mind if you sleep with him. You did not mind when I took Gorgios to my bed, or any of the other pages that have made their way in and out of our beds." He had leaned over then and kissed Alexander soundly. "Just do not lose your heart to him." Alexander had smiled, a soft glow came into his eyes, a glow that was only for Hephaistion and he grabbed Hephaistion's hand.

"The vault of my heart has been sealed for years, only you reside within."

Then, if this were so, Alexander argued why did he feel oddly about this? He did not feel any different about Hephaistion. Oh, he had bedded some of the pages, especially those he mentored, or he had been drawn to and they willing, but it had never touched him the way Bagoas had, or was, or … He huffed loudly drawing attention to himself.

"Nai, oh, nai, nai 'tis well, agreed, a bit tighter through the ribs, Ajax." He turned to Nearkhos who was studying the armor carefully, thinking about this own order. "What think you, will it do? Suggestions, non? Then let's try it out?" He grinned as he picked up his sword belt, buckled it on and headed out of the tent. As they walked from the tent, he caught the familiar perfume of cedar wood, clove and myrrh, and turned. He smiled, his heart racing as Bagoas, waved, smiled as passed on, he was deep in conversation with Chares.

"Alexander? Alexander?" He felt someone poke at him, but swatting their hand away, lost in thought.

"Alexander can you hear me?"

Alexander considered Bagoas was not as one of his pages, duty bound, but innocent of such wiles and sophistications. Oh, non, Bagoas was another mystery altogether, one that enticed and beckoned with the seductive hand of Eros. He would kiss certain pages on occasion, especially when pleased with them. But none of them had ever sought… Those eyes! Bagoas, he had noted early on could make his eyes the most innocent or disturbing orbs with the merest change in glance. None of his pages could do that. Hephaistion, _could_ do that, indeed, he was quite good at it. Playing those dark violet blue eyes like a flute that could cause shivers up and down his spine were he not careful to fight against the sensation they caused in him. Hephaistion, though did so only in private, so, had Bagoas.

What was he to do? He had grown to enjoy, nai, truly depend on the Persian's company. His bright mind and quick wit intrigued and entertained him, and as a man…nai, he would call him such, for he did not see that a man was known by physical attributes alone. Perhaps he was not a man, yet, for at seventeen… Oh, by the dog! Alexander! He shook his head as though clearing it of disturbing, heavy thoughts as he looked about finding himself at the stables. He frowned confused. He had been certain he was… Ah, where had he been heading?

"Why…how? How did I get here?" Nearkhos, who had been watching him closely, along with several others, but knew Alexander's heart in a way few others did, shrugged as he grinned and leered teasingly as he watched a blush of color rise through Alexander's face.

"I don't know, Alexander, has something got you sidetracked?"

To be continued….


	8. Chapter 8

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.7

Takes place the night after Alexander's supper party. Bagoas finds himself nervous over a private supper with Alexander.

*Sorry for taking so long to update - life always seems to interfere.

* * *

A rather curious sight met Setapas' eyes when he entered Bagoas' chambers. However, before he registered that he sneezed at the strong, almost overpowering scent of ambergris and balsam. It reeked, smacking one's senses with its overpowering odor. His dark brow furrowed as he strode on his long legs into the chamber quickly, his long, bare feet slick against the cool marble floor. He smiled a bit relishing the welcome coolness beneath his soles recalling to him the long silent shadowed alcoves of the god's temples so far away in Khmet. Stepping gingerly upon a large colorful carpet, he spied an upset alabaster jar from which thick ambergris essence leaked. He righted it along with the jar for the balsam and set them back on Bagoas' dressing table. Shaking his head he noted there was little to do with the spreading stain on the carpet beneath his feet. The carpet would forever smell of these rich scents and knew no amount of scrubbing would truly remove the stain. Still, he called a slave to begin cleansing it. After setting the slave to work he tried to catch Bagoas' attention, but he was so caught up in some internal drama that his efforts, when finally achieved were hard won.

The boy, usually the byword of calm sophistication was skittish as a horse at the starting gate. He paced back and forth, his riding boots creating a dull track into the thick nap of the carpet. Like the skittish horse he tossed his head back his long, black mane flying about his shoulders as he muttered to himself. Clothing - colorful silks, wool fur and brocades, lay scattered about falling from open clothes chests like bright flowers strewn across a garden path.

"Bagoas, what ails you? Has someone or something upset you?" Bagoas looked up his black eyes wide as though he had just now noticed Setapas' presence. He grunted, frowned and moaned all at once.

"Nay, I…nai, aye… It is the King." He nearly threw himself upon the Egyptian who luckily caught him in his strong arms.

Setapas fluttered his dark lashes at first taken aback by the boy's apparent case of nerves. "Come, let us sit, here…" He led his charge toward a small mound of jewel toned cushions, pressed him down while he poured a cup of wine. "Drink first, and breathe!" He smiled warmly at the youth Persian, his eyes studying the wash of color across the boy's high cheekbones and the sparkling depth of the black eyes. Energy bounced off him, bright, fascinating and highly erotic. "Now, what great mischance has occurred with the King, for you seem as though you expect his guard to appear any moment and drag you away. I promise you, dear Bagoas, whatever it is, it cannot be that bad, and even so, I will aid you in whatever way I can."

Bagoas sighed deeply, closed his large, exquisitely shaped dark eyes. Then he smiled and blushed deeply appearing for all the world the innocent youth caught in the throes of first love, and not the skilled, polished courtier that Setapas knew him to be. Bagoas' long fingers played across the rim of the silver cup in his hand. "He, the Kin… Iskander has asked me to sup with him. Alone." Before Setapas could so much as utter a sound Bagoas moaned softly. "What shall I do? Oh, Setapas, I will speak to you the truth for there is something in you that beckons and I know my trust in you will not be ill used. My heart… my blood all myself yearns for him. When he smiles it as Ahura Mazda blessing the world and I feel such joy within. I have been a courtesan of highest regard yet I feel a witless child before him. My skills are as dross and all the witticism I know fall as lead upon my tongue. To look upon him I shiver and am as an untried boy dreaming of his lover."

"You are in love with him." Bagoas shook his sleek, glossy head and sighed.

"Oh, aye, and never has such a love been… I have never dared dream, and yet, I have dreamt it constantly since first I saw him. He is the perfection of man: all that is good and beautiful as the Hellenes say, ruler of my soul…he is my god and holds my heart in keeping."

"So, why does it frighten you, this summons?" Setapas, being a wiser man than he let on already knew the answer, but he hoped the young Persian in discovering it for himself, might realize the truth and allay some of his fears.

"I wish to please him."

"And, you will, indeed, have you not done so already? Did he not praise highly to his guests the night past your good skills and excellent ways. He knows your value, Bagoas, do not doubt it, and he is a man who does not allow things to go to waste." Setapas had risen and was tossing clothing aside; trying to decide on a suit the boy would wear. His eye's found a suit of deep red silk jacket with trousers of gold brocade. The waistcoat was also of gold, with buttons, as in the jacket of sparkling quartz. With Bagoas' dramatic coloring, his deep black hair, warm ivory skin, and sparkling black eyes the colors would set him off admirably. The quartz buttons, of which this was the second set Bagoas owned, Setapas recalled had fascinated the king, as he had compared their prism-like cut to snowflakes. It was unwrinkled and needed no sponging.

"Nor is he a man to dismiss that which delights his eye." Setapas grinned waggishly at Bagoas. "Do you fear what he might ask?

"Oh, non, for I would give all myself, all I own willingly to him, but it is more…deeper than that." Bagoas took up the waistcoat and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from it.

"I do not think he is so immune the your erotic spell as he might wish himself to think." Bagoas frowned at Setapas' words, then lay back upon the mound of soft thick cushions.

"I would give him a thousand kisses, he need only ask for to please him however he wishes is my job. But, Setapas, I wish for more, something greater than I have possessed before. My skills with love are as nothing beside what I hold in my heart for him. I…I wish for that knowledge that I know I will never be allowed. Only Hephaistion has as such and in that I envy him all."

"Do not envy him too much, and what he is to the King you know you can never be. The wise man would not wish it. You can give the King other gifts Hephaistion cannot. Do not be surprised at what the eve brings you way. Follow your heart, it is pure, and you will not fail." Bagoas smiled at the Egyptian.

"How do you know these things? Again, you are no slave, but I think some great nobleman who has sought to demean himself or some purpose only known to you and the gods."

"My purpose is mine, as is yours what you alone endeavor to. Which is I believe to give the King that companionship his being desires, but he denies himself."

"Companionship? Oh, nay, he has Hephaistion, what more could he wish? For he is… he is as Iskander…" Bagoas' sighed wistfully. "I wish my companionship were as such to him, but I fear I will never be that. I was not meant to be such a man as one as he. I may wish is so, but…"

"Bagoas, Hephaistion is less and less with the King. As the empire grows and the King's needs and his desires for conquest grow so do he will need his most valueable men to carry out his dreams. Hephaistion is the one he trusts the most, and next to him the General Krateros. These two men, nay, lions, they are his best, and he being a ruler of such beasts knows their heart. But, I see in him a man, who though a warrior like no other, when in the quiet of night begs for something gentle, something calm to ease his heart. He might desire to keep them ever present, but he cannot, not for himself or for their own sake. They must have honor and glory, and he knows this, he cannot deny it them, though I believe it saddens him, for he loves them both dearly." He touched Bagoas' hair softly. "Nay, do not fear, you, I believe can offer him that which he desires greatly, that rare companionship between the heart and soul of one alike. Do not be fearful."

* * *

Meanwhile in Alexander's tent…

Alexander twisted his lips into a tight moue. He sniffed and sneezed, that was the fifth time. Was his throat a bit raw? He swallowed, coughed a bit then sneezed again. Perhaps he had, at least for a day or two give up his early morning swim in the river nearby. It was near icy. Hephaistion had chided him about it. He had chiden him about other things as well. How was it he could read his thoughts so well.

He sank down upon his work stool and sipped some wine and told himself there was nothing to fear. His nerves were unnecessary. Why was he so overwrought? If only Hephaistion were here, he would… Alexander laughed at himself and smacked his knee. "Oh, aye, Alexander, " he scolded, "If Hephaistion were here you would not seek Bagoas' company with such eagerness. Would you not?" He got up and began to pace and asked himself the question he had been wrestling with all day long. Or would he seek Bagoas' company regardless? Non, that was not quite correct; he decided to lay it out clearly so he could study the argument from all sides.

As he removed his sandals walking about on the thick cool nap of the carpets relishing the feel against his bare skin he reflected, he loved Hephaistion. He longed for his company, but he was not present, and at present no one else would do. Well, he amended Bagoas would. Or rather he had thought that asking for Bagoas' company he would soothe that empty spot that Hephaistion so often filled. However, that was not really the truth of it, was it? Be honest with yourself, Alexander. He argued as he scratched the small bite of some insect on his foot and then frowned deeply realizing it was bleeding. Splashing water all over his feet, enjoying the feel and splashing more, the allowed his thoughts to line up in the orderly manner he had long ago trained himself to study them. Anything, regardless of it's true purpose could be treated as one would study and decide the preliminary advance of attack. A cool mind and sound logic were all that was needed, oh, and to know one's opponent.

Very well, he would examine his reasons for asking for the Persian's company. One, Hephaistion was not present in camp, nor would he be for weeks, unfortunately. Two… Who else… Oh Haides! He swung round cursing himself. Admit it! He prodded himself. Admit it, as Hephaistion had pressed him a fortnight past before he had left camp. Admit to yourself you are intrigued by the boy.

"Oh, very well, I…nai, nai!" Alexander threw himself on the work stool grumbling and rubbing his knee which he had smashed against the wooden seat. He was mesmerized by the Persian. Nai, nai, of course, there was the obvious, that strong erotic lure of his. How could one deny itl, he had played at imaging the Persian's kisses, his lips against his caressing his skin. He was no fool, he knew himself well enough. Yet there was more than the obvious, there was something about Bagoas that drew him on, and it was not completely sexual. It was something he had seen spark in those large, dark eyes, something he had recognized so clearly and so often in himself and men like Hephaistion, and other Companions. There was a yearning, the undeniable hunger for understanding, and knowledge. They spoke in the same tongue...dreams and conquest.

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.8

Alexander and Bagoas get to know one another a little better.

Warning: Male sex…

*Sorry it has taken so long with this, I have been ill for a couple of weeks. I will try to finish this "book" this week.

* * *

As though Hephaistion were present Alexander leaned his head to the left and sighed. Hephaistion would then squeeze his shoulder, the silent communication of comfort acknowledged. Beneath the length of his long golden lashes Alexander eyed the youth opposite him. Sitting cross legged on the thick lion skin, as he had seen the Egyptian, Setapas sit, his long legs encased in silken gold Persian trousers (Alexander almost sneered at their sight). He wished Bagoas had worn a chiton, it would look well on him, and he would not have to look at the barbaric leg encasements. Closing his eyes slightly, he breathed in the exotic scent Bagoas wore. Rich deep tones of spicy green woods and the heady vibrancy of something he could not name that beckoned with sensual fingers. He tipped his head to the side, further studying the youth and felt a wash of color rise through his cheeks when he realized Bagoas was watching him in turn.

"My Lo…, Iskander, are you well?" Bagoas' melodious alto caught his senses and Alexander lifted his head with a quick grin.

"Oh, aye, indeed, I am very well." He replied, knowing he spoke true. He was more than well he was entranced and enjoying himself greatly. The seventeen year old Persian was more than a delight to his eyes, much more than that as he had discovered to his satisfaction. A quick mind, skilled intellect, much more than he had expected, he spoke and read Hellene as well as ceremonial Persian. He sang…well, that he could do without, Alexander allowed, he didn't care for the high pitched style, and he had heard rumors which he shortly hoped to investigate that he was an excellent dancer in the acrobatic style. Also, he allowed with a tiny grin, for once he was the taller, not by much, barely a hair's breathe, but he was. Would Bagoas grow any taller perhaps as tall as Hephaistion? How did one ask? For surely the castration had destroyed that future, non?

For at seventeen, were he a normal youth, he could grow taller still. He had the long perfectly apportioned limbs of one whose forefathers were also long so built. He would have been quite tall, Alexander decided, along with those long, slender muscles of a dancer which added to his graceful epicene beauty. Oh, nai, he acknowledged silently, he had a weakness for that which caught his eye with delight. He cleared his throat and looked up meeting his opponent head on. "'Tis your move…or did I go over the rules too quickly? I…perhaps I –"

Bagoas lifted his black brows smiling and laughed. "Non, Iskander, I believe I know them well enough…" He stopped his black eyes serious as his hand lingered over the board in seeming contemplation. "If you will permit me…" Without another word and a soft chuckle he moved forward quickly moving his carved pine marker in rapid succession and capturing two of Alexander's knights.

"By Zeus! You have cheated! Not even Krateros is so fast with his moves and he in part created Strategos!" Alexander cried with a low shout of surprise. He leaned over, his eyes dancing merrily as he studied the board before him and then the youth who sat across from him who was laughing though trying to seem embarrassed. With guileless pleasure in his victory Bagoas did not see the signs of deepening interest the man facing him across the scattered lion and bear skins covering the floor of Alexander's tent.

Bagoas grinned and then bit his lip. Oh, non, he had not meant to! Setapas would skin him when he heard. Iskander did not like to lose. He bent his head apologizing softly and was answered with a loud snort of laughter.

"Nai, come here so I may beat you!" His newly washed hair shining like gold against the whiteness of his simple chiton, his eyes wide and sparkling pools of blue in the soft brazier light Alexander laughed falling over sideways into the thick silken cushions piled about him like a rainbow colored nest. Kicking his bare feet against the carpeting while overtaken by a sudden gale of giggles that he could not seem to stop he rolled back and forth. Seized by a great fear Bagoas rose quickly and knelt at his side. Rolling to one side and pursing his lips, so Bagoas could not see his smile, Alexander rose up quickly catching Bagoas off guard and swooped him into his arms. Startled, thrown off balance by Alexander's strength and unexpected movement Bagoas began to stiffen and push away but he realized almost as quickly Alexander was playing. He retaliated launching himself upon Alexander with a low growl that was met with a loud roar of laughter that floated about his ears as they rolled about upsetting the animal skins.

"Gods! Where did you learn to wrestle like this? It is not a Persian trait." He breathed out pushing back and attempting to catch Bagoas' strongly muscled legs quickly with his own. He was much stronger than he had thought and found himself gritting his teeth as he sought to capture him beneath him. "Hephaistion taught you his best moves, admit it!" He gritted through his teeth as he found his hopes for victory upset when he felt the thick fur of the bear skin prickling the bare skin of his back.

"Nay, Iskander, though I have watched the wrestlers in the palestra and memorize very quickly." Bagoas grinned down into his face. Alexander made a face as he realized suddenly he was the captive in a game he had set up, but had not seen through with enough strategy to determine the ending. He looked up into the large dark eyes gazing down into his. His heart began to pound as Bagoas' long, dark tresses threw a silken curtain about their faces. In the length of one heartbeat he asked himself did he want what was coming and answered with the smile that lit up his eyes when their lips met. His arms lifted wrapping his captor in a tight embrace. For half a second Alexander was fearful Bagoas might struggle again, he had caught that one instant of breathless terror in his eyes, and loosed his arms. As though reading his thoughts in answer Bagoas' wrapped his own long, strongly lithe arms about Alexander's neck and kissed him deeply. The kiss was as such he had never known before. His lips seared him his eroticism scalding him, firing his blood instantly and he found himself trembling and moaned softly against the surge of fire raking through his groin.

When they stopped for a moment their eyes met, each man watching the other – hopeful desire mixed with fear, uncertainty side by side with the complete knowledge of wanting. Tenderly as he dared, Alexander lifted a hand smoothing down the long black length of Bagoas' hair and raised his face to kiss him. They turned as one - lying side by side upon the scattered pillows fingers and lips searching out, finding and exploring skin and senses. For a long moment Bagoas pulled back, his eyes taking in the perfection and divine scent of the man in his arms. He smelt as gold might did it have a perfume, a scent so sublime that his eyes teared with the memory of something that had once been lost now regained. A smile brushed his lips, the eroticism within him rising coiling in his senses as he watched Alexander who watched him as he lay breathing deeply, his hand upon his lips touching them as though to linger in wonder the touch of something so new, so rare…his eyes lit with flames of something besides desire. An uncertainty, a sacred wildness that only one privy to the gods' ways smoldered there banking and then growing with each passing moment. Bagoas warned himself to have a care for the wondrous majesty of the gods and lions could be fatal to mortals.

"Gladly I offer my soul upon this altar." He murmured to himself with closed eyes, as though offering up a prayer, his own hand clenched in Alexander's who had caught it up and kissed it.

"Come," Alexander rose upon one arm, his skin catching golden fire against the firelight, and his eyes heavy with desire as his voice so soft it was almost a whisper entreated, "Stay with me through the night?"

He rose going out to speak with his guard and returned quickly, smiling holding out his hand. "It is well with you?" His voice held the question his eyes echoed. "I would not… I would… I seek a friend and lover."

Bagoas nodded and smiled in answer. "It is my heart's desire." Alexander's smile widened and a glow of gladness flared in his eyes.

* * *

Later, as the stars glittered and sparkled with cold fire against Nyx black cloak, Bagoas lay awake watching the silvery gleam of Artemis slip tenderly across Alexander's face illuminating the shadows about him until he seemed made of silver. Carefully, not wishing to wake him, Bagoas brushed a finger down the strong lines of his throat and across the broad muscles of his chest. He could not help himself from staring or where the lean line of his fingers sought to follow the scattering of moonbeams as they played across sun-kissed skin. How perfect, how like the god Bagoas knew him to be. As with all warriors he was scarred, but the perfection of his muscled limbs and masculine beauty of his own youthful face was a foil against the boyish sweetness Bagoas had discovered that lived within the man who slept beside him. He had a deep vein of innocent playfulness that had made their newly discovered love a joy. For the first time in his young life Bagoas knew he was accepted as an equal, not the former eunuch lover, the Persian boy of the High King Darius, but a friend and lover as Alexander had called him.

Reverently he bent his head kissing the scars raking Alexander's chest. The great one he knew he had taken at Gaza pressed inward toward his shoulder, deeply pitting his flesh, the violent scar of mottled violet hue. He kissed it three times, he had heard the story of the omen and how Alexander, for his men's sake had accepted the omen and made his flesh the sacrifice for victory. Down along the firm line of muscled flesh his lips left a trail, perfuming and worshipping the rigidly scarred flesh. This was the body of a warrior who was also a god. Bagoas' sighed. He would never be his equal as a man, not as he was. Perhaps he might have once, but now… He turned his head and lifted his eyes toward Alexander's face. He was still as the night at ease, at peace as he lay cuddled close into Bagoas' side. Earlier, much to Bagoas' dismay, as they lay together, sipping wine after love, Alexander had wiped tears from his eyes.

"Non, oh, Iskander, please –"Instantly his concern and fear of failure burned him and he moved quickly near to pulling Alexander into his arms. .

Alexander had held up his hand touching Bagoas' face, his face bloomed with a smile that grew in his eyes and he nipped a soft kiss upon his cheek and throat. "Non, you must not think I am sad. Truly, it is not so. I do not know why these tears… Truly, I had thought myself cured of them long ago, with Hephaistion, he…" He stopped then as though remembering. "He cured my sadness." He touched Bagoas' face tenderly, "You have not brought it back, do not think that it. I do not feel any grief, but rather a lightening, a lifting. I am much grateful for you… your friendship, your love."

Wonder kept him from speaking, wonder at the man who was the god he worshipped in his heart. This man he would honor and serve, as did the myriad thousands of others the rest of his life. He too had accepted the omens seen, and his sacrifice had brought joy to the gods - he knew this as though his very soul was crying out from the joy of it.

To be continued….


	10. Chapter 10

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.9

Bagoas begins to learn something about Setapas' mysterious past and mysterious oracles about Alexander.

About a week after Chapter I.8, Alexander has moved his camp, and is now at Drangiana.

Note: briefly, the worship of the Egyptian goddess Wadjet, the Lady of Flame, originally depicted as a cobra, and worshiped as deity of lower Egypt in pre-dynastic times became connected and intertwined with the worship of Bast and Sekhmet in the later part of the 4th century bce. Per-Wadjet – House of Wadjet was also one of the oracles that may have been partly connected and responsible for the spread of oracular tradition to Greece. She is the deity connected with the protection of kings.

* * *

Quickly, slamming the small lid of a cedar wood trunk Setapas threw himself into a graceful act of prostration when the King entered Setapas' private chamber. A long, slender, brindled cat, which bore a golden hoop in one ear and a collar of leather sewn with blue and green faience beads brushed against Alexander's calf and growled faintly as it swayed its way toward the large wooden door which he had just closed behind him. He sniffed the air which was redolent with the richness of myrrh which floated past on clawed paws.

"What the…?" He turned his keen eyes watching the large animal weave its way sinuously through what was appeared to be small crack in the door. His interest bright in his eyes he began to scold Setapas lightly as he pulled him up from the cold rough stone floor where he knelt. Though covered with a great shaggy bear pelt, the floor and many hangings along the thick walls the room, much like his royal chambers was as cold as the rest of the large fortress.

"Do not do that. I have told you before, I do not require it. What was that? Put this on, I freeze to look at you." Alexander unwound the long fur cloak from his own broad shoulders and wrapped it about Setapas who was dressed warmly in the Persian manner, but he knew how the Egyptian being from such a hot land would be colder than he who was used to the snows of Macedon's winters. Standing in the middle of the room Alexander, his armor shining dully in the dim daylight moved toward the doorway which he opened briefly pitching his voice in a low chorus of meows. He turned grinning sheepishly.

"It does not answer, and has gone from sight. A cat, nai? This much I know, but I have never seen such as that one except in Khmet, and never one of that size. How came it here? I do not recall your having a cat when we left Siwah." He swept forward toward a corner where a perfect bowl of pink alabaster filled with cuts of meat sat next to another which held water. The meat, that which was left was pushed toward one side of the bowl and a small mouse, dead, but untouched filled the rest. He found himself smiiling. "It is a small lion I think, non?"

Setapas bowed low, his own lips trembling on a smile. "Mau, which you call "cat", was sent as a gift to me from the high priestess of Wadjet-Bast's temple in Per-Wadjet."

"Mau, you have named it cat? Very original," He grinned and the other man grinned back. Setapas knew of the Great RA's interest to learn all things and their way of the earth and the stars. He had counseled him once that to know oneself was enough. The young King had laughed, his marvelous eyes crinkling as he smiled and shook his head acknowledging this was so, but he could not help nor deny as he knew himself to be. Setapas had bowed, his own eyes thoughtful, saying: "So it is with the gods." And for a moment their eyes met in perfect understanding.

"Alas, I am not gifted with naming animals." His dark eyes were twinkling, and then he became more solemn. "It has come, Great RA, the word which you have awaited from Wadjet's temple." Rather than looking pleased as one might expect, or as the silent youth hiding just beyond a secret opening to the chamber he had discovered thought he might, Alexander's mien was serious and somewhat anxious. Bagoas listening and watching intently praised Ishtar that Mau had not given his presence away, for he was greatly fond of the great cat spoiling it terribly, and it tended to search him out whenever he was near. He was not spying, that was not his intent. Rather it was the desire to protect his beloved, as he had come to think of Iskander. He had not done something as silly as follow him about throughout the day skulking in the secrets passages of the great sprawling stone fortress the King had graciously agreed to inhabit in Dranganina. A wise man does not make enemies by slighting gestures of fealty as when the tribal leader offered Alexander the comforts of his fortress home, so the King had forgone the more preferred and greater security of his tent for this stone establishment of power.

Bagoas felt, especially when Hephaistion was not in camp, that it was his duty to watch and be ready to aid his King in whatever way he might require. Alas, much to his misfortune, for though his private wish was otherwise, he could not deny the truth that lived before him every day, he was not such a fool as to think Iskander lived for his company alone. Hephaistion was due back today. It was the first thing Iskander had remarked upon after he had kissed him the greeting that morn. He had bounded out of bed, the joyful spirit of expectation so clear in his eyes whenever he mentioned Hephaistion. Bagoas found himself often wondering if Hephaistion had similar thoughts about _his_ entry into Iskander's life; or rather, their lives, for to be accepted into Iskander's life one must accept Hephaistion as well. He was the constant song upon Iskander's lips, but it was never spoken with a knowledge that was intent upon cruelty. He could not help who he was, and Bagoas who having survived thus far in Darius' tumultuous court, understood the nature of men and knew these two men were bound together by something beyond mere friendship, their companionship bordered on the mystical. He sighed, he would never wish Hephaistion ill for to do so was to wish Iskander ill as well, but he did wish that just occasionally Hephaistion did not exist. He would admit it, aye, he was selfish in his love and desire for Iskander, but who could deny him anything? He was as the sun that rose and gave purpose to men by bringing them closer to the gods through his ways.

With a sigh he turned his scrutiny to Setapas who was gathering up a cache of papyri and other objects. Bagoas stretched himself as far round the sharp stone corners as he dared without actually falling into the room and saw what Setapas too observed.

The strong frown lines on the King's young forehead deepen when he began to ready himself for hearing the oracle. That intense inner contemplation with his daemon or surveying a battlefield that overcame the Great RA at such times was upon him now. As he watched the interplay between the two men in the small chamber, Bagoas found himself wondering again about Setapas.

Who was he really? A priest, aye, he had begun to guess, non, no need to guess, for whom but priests trained as temple scribes would know the mysterious things Setapas did. A priest, aye, but what sort, and what god or goddess did he serve? His age also perplexed him, though he might appear young, perhaps not much more than Bagoas' own years, Bagoas doubted very much this was so. Setapas had the physical perfection of certain men of Khmet which gave nothing away but the fact that they held secrets which others might covet. He thought he must be older than Iskander, for if he had, indeed, been at Siwah when Iskander had ventured there, then he must be considerably older. The strict rites of Khmet's gods were hereditary, and all powerful, in some cases more so than Pharaoh himself. This much Bagoas has garnered from careful questioning. Setapas' actions gave this away to one who might know where to look. It was a mystery and curiosity that gnawed occasionally at Bagoas though thus far it had not concerned him over much.

Perhaps he had come from Siwah, as Iskander had indicated, but he was more than a temple scribe or even a priest, it was clear in every fiber of his being. Iskander seemed to know him – their manner spoke of great familiarity. Iskander was a considerate man, even with his slaves. He rarely called upon anyone to do that which he himself would not. But this, this familiarity with a slave, for Setapas did continually refer to himself as such gave rise to questions. Not that he was jealous, non, Bagoas knew that demon did not follow him. The last four nights he had spent with Iskander, who this very morn refused to allow him to leave so he could see to his morning meal. He had sworn he would rather starve than go without Bagoas' company. They had fought, wrestling, laughing, rolling about the bed and then onto the floor like two children. Non, there was no reason for concern in that area.

"Hmm," Bagoas snorted with some disgust as he watched Setapas place a ring upon his right index finger and his eye caught the undeniable gleam of pure gold as it flashed in the daylight. Bagoas nearly gave himself away as he watched startled when Alexander bent and kissed the ring.

"Aye, and if he was not born of the golden perfumed halls of some god's great temple to the daughter of Pharaoh then I am truly a greater fool than my Mother would think me." He stopped a moment eyes closed thinking on his Mother whom he had not seen in close to ten years. She belonged to the past, a past he still mourned, but ensued out of pride lest those deeper feelings of grief and anger rise again within him and threaten the calmness of his present state of mind. For he was happy, very happy, and did not wish anything to spoil it. He had come, or believed he had come to terms with who he had become long ago. Frowning he tossed his a stray lock of hair behind his shoulder and pressed closer to the wall.

"Have you given thought to my request, the celebration of Hephaistion's feast day and the music for the dance?" Setapas turned, his eyes alight and nodded.

"Aye, Great RA, I have, the sound of many sistrum will begin the dance. For the sistrum is a sound of joy, harmony and pleasure, all given by the goddess Bastet in her perfect wisdom to give man reason to rejoice with pleasure. Then the harp and the melodious flute will flow together praising the joy and courage of Horus as he fought against Set."

"Bagoas' dance will be perfection. I know this, how can it be otherwise for he is as sinuous as the Nile itself, and full of secrets." Iskander grinned, and then flushed a bit which caused Setapas to laugh.

"My Lord has found another companion to please his lonely hours?" Alexander blushed red this time, but nothing could erase the sparkle of pleasure in his eyes.

"Nai, he is a good friend and will become, in time, I believe a true companion for he is endowed with all things that belong to a man who knows the value of the spirit over the body. I am honored to call him friend. Besides both Hephaistion and I could learn something of patience from him!" His laughter ran out loud and clear within the stone chamber.

Bagoas jerked backward, hearing Iskander's words. As feelings of pleasant surprise rose within him causing a burning of tears in his eyes which he would not yield to as he pressed closer to the cold stone wall, his fingertips clenching the hard chiseled surface tightly as he sought to gain every word and its inflection.

"The music and the dance I hope will please Hephaistion greatly. He became intrigued with your great land, its legends and kings; Ptolemy too for that matter perhaps even more so, but it for Hephaistion's feast day that I wish this entertainment. Osiris' son did not grant audience to Ptolemy, but Hephaistion while we were at Siwah, so it is right to honor him so. Perhaps in time…" He stopped, drawing breath and looked about, meeting the Egyptian's all knowing dark eyes. "You are certain the site is properly aligned with the heavens? There can be no mistake. It is as you know my fondest wish in such regard. My Father, Amon has been good to me, to honor him so…" He glanced toward the small altar nestled in an alcove of Setapas' chamber.

"Great RA, it will be an honor to Khmet to have the god back with us." Setapas bowed low this time, in a graceful gesture of worship and this time Alexander did not stop him. he stood transfixed; his lips parted slightly, his eyes glassy, but bright with knowledge. Hephaistion, had he been present would know Alexander was in communion with the gods and leave him be. Setapas knew this as well and kept his head low to the floor, his breathing soft and even hearing the King's words float about him as though writing history for eons to come.

"Perhaps in time I will move my main capital to Khmet, leaving Babylon the western one, ruled by iron, of course, as Hephaistion will rule for me as I continue onward with my conquest deeper into the lands of Kush and Nubia seeking those things the Great RA Rameses himself sought. However, the conquest of Arabia will come first, and before that the Indias, and before that there are still the pretenders to Persia's throne to set to rights." His voice broke the spell and laughter spilled out into the room. "I am much plagued with impatience, non? Yet such things, places and peoples call to me…to search them out, know them, make them part of my conquest…the Carthaginians, and perhaps the Romans, good fighters are the Romans. I would relish such a challenge, and the man to assist me would be Krateros. The Romans are men who know and understand the _Tykhe and dymos_ of men such as he. I will be granted a consulship, at first I believe, this he will accept and stand in my honor and then in time…" His voice so soft had an odd quality, and Setapas glanced up and saw the smile upon Alexander's face and shivered recalling the ritual words spoken at his coronation, that the son of RA will rein a thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand years. "In time the blood of Herakles will return to rule throughout the lands of man once more. Krateros will do well with the Romans he has the same gritty toughness in his soul."

"Hephaistion would be a wise and strong ruler he has the wisdom and knowledge to see into the hearts of men. He, I believe is the stuff of a wise ruler. The spirit of Plato and Dion live in him intermingled, this I have long believed. If we can do what Athens could not…if only…"

Setapas lay a careful hand upon the royal shoulder as though to draw him gently back to his present. "I recall that, aye; he was visited with the wisdom of Thoth at Siwah. This indeed, is a rare gift, given only to those who serve the gods unselfishly." He had kept this to himself, and no one but Hephaistion and the Great RA, knew of this visitation. Setapas had heard of the oracle from the priests who had witnessed it and knew. Hephaistion's souls conjoined with those of the Great RA. He spoke so softly Alexander leaned forward to hear. "Together you two will outshine others who though in their time and years beyond will set themselves up as larger but you will be discovered again in a day long distant from this, and then this Son of Horus, his bravery, courage, compassion, genius and legend will never be forgotten again."

Bowing his golden head, Alexander spoke softly, "It would please me much. So much I owe to him, so many things unknown by others, but the gods know true and to they I leave all things of the heavens."

"So, it is the wisest course?" Alexander's voice was low and bore a deep concern of a private sort as he nodded toward the sheaf of papyri in Setapas' hands. "Aristander, my seer has given me his predictions, but as you know, my father, Zeus Amun speaks to my heart." Setapas sighed, thinned his full lips and motioned toward the trunk as he bent down opening it again to remove with careful reverence a large box of gilded cedar wood. Hieroglyphics carved expertly deeply into the aromatic wood and then outlined in gold patterned the outside of the box catching the glint of sunlight as it was moved about in Setapas' hands.

Alexander leaned in, his face lightening with a grin as he stroked one finger along an oval form containing several small pictorial forms. "That is my cratch-cart…car…" He muttered something under his breath, causing Setapas to quickly cover the smile on his face with his hand as the King frowning suddenly like a child pursed his mouth in frustration, almost causing Bagoas to burst aloud with laughter.

"Cartouche, Great RA, aye, your heavenly titles, as Lord of the Two Lands." Setapas gave the King a quick glance of surprise. "Can you make them out?"

"Nai, I know this figure - falcon betokens Golden Horus, one of my ceremonial titles, nai? And this symbol for bee is for the two lands, nai?" He grinned again, but ruefully. "That is all I know. Can you teach me so I may write as such?" He was now grinning widely. "I would create a secret code."

Setapas raised a black brow as Alexander burst out laughing. "I am overly ambitious, nai? It has taken you your life to learn as such and to ask for such sacred knowledge as one would learn the recipe to a good wife's bread is hubristic."

"To learn to make your cartouche would be easy for you my Lord. I would be proud teach you." Setapas bowed his eyes shining. He knew the young King enjoyed a challenge, to learn his name in the sacred writing of the gods would be a challenge, one he knew the King would enjoy. He turned back facing the King.

"You are certain you wish to know the oracle in its entirety, my Lord?" He had known the answer the moment Alexander had summoned him last night and spoken of his desire. "Come then, we will seek the inner sanctum of the temple and there I will give you your Father's words." Alexander let out a long sigh of relief and smiled slightly as they both began to move toward the door. Quickly Bagoas slid around the side of the wall allowing himself to be lost in the darkness of the secret passage.

To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.10

Alexander prepares to leave camp to greet Hephaistion, and Bagoas gets left behind.

Later same day as I.10, late afternoon.

* * *

Just past the fourteenth hour of the day, when the sun was still strong in the sky and it's warmth making fragrant the black earth, Alexander strode into his private quarters, flung off his lightweight dark blue woolen cloak and picked up the heavier grey wolf skin cloak he had worn earlier that day and tossed it on his saddlebags.

"Hephaistion is about ten stadia from camp; I will ride out to meet with him and camp the night with his unit. I have already sent out a rider to alert him." His mind clearly distracted, his orders to his pages quick with impatience, Bagoas who had just entered his private chamber thought of the mysterious conversation he had overheard earlier between Iskander and Setapas as he watched Alexander stride about. With a private sigh of disappointment he took in the signs of Alexander's imminent departure from camp.

With few words, Alexander directed his pages who quickly and silently saw his orders fulfilled. Then he turned to the young Persian standing beside him holding several missives Eumenes had sent for the King's scrutiny. His expression calm, not a sign showed upon Bagoas' face, nor in his dark, expressive eyes that one might know he was disturbed. However, Alexander knew and knew why. He turned smiling gently as he tightened his sword belt as he donned warmer garments and clapped him on the shoulder as one might a new recruit who has the raw talent and desire, but not the necessary skills yet for battle.

"Another time, perhaps, you understand?" His own eyes were clear with intent, and Bagoas knew it was the man who spoke and not the King. He lived to serve his king as well as love the man and bowed honoring both and kept his frustration to himself.

"Aye, my Lord, I will see that Boukepahlos is prepared, aye?" Alexander pursed his lips momentarily frowning. Boukepahlos had lately been favoring his left foreleg, but he knew did he leave camp without him, the great black war horse would know and his ire would be as Alexander's own at being left behind. Alexander nodded with laughter rising in his voice.

"It is well, or he will never forgive me otherwise. Ten stadia is not so very far for him, yet I will have to baby him, and that will mean I must go more slowly." He sighed and began to stride about. "Do I ride him I risk his leg and that I cannot do. However, do I leave him behind he will fret and sulk and possibly attack the grooms again. Ohhh, why now?" He strode through his tent toward the stables then stopped midway as though to turn, then turned again and continued toward the stable mumbling to himself all the while. Bagoas along with three of the pages heard Hephaistion's name several times and exchanged knowing grins. One of the youths, Kleon glanced over at the dark eyed Persian, at the mention of Hephaistion's name and the King's obvious excitement, but Bagoas just raised his expressive black brow at the inquiry, and moved on without comment.

Boukepahlos stood at ease munching from a much dented pail of oats. Alexander frowned at a new dent in the bronze pail's circumference and scolded his horse in a voice that was soft with teasing.

"Is that new? What have you done, 'eh? What small thing has caused your displeasure, oh, son of the horse god?" Boukepahlos response was to toss his long, silky black tail and shake his head back and forth neighing loudly at the sight of his master. He moved from his feeding pail toward Alexander and nudged him on the shoulder, hard. He neighed once and repeated the movement once again, this time causing Alexander to stumble a little under the force. Then he stamped his front right hoof and with a quick flick of his tongue wiped Alexander's face for him and then trotted toward the wooden stable wall where he knew his bridle and blankets were kept. He pulled at the bridle with his white teeth as he turned and flicked his head back and forth expressively at Alexander.

Alexander raised his golden brow grabbed his horse by the neck hugging him tightly while whispering endearments into his ears, then turned toward Bagoas who was on the verge of hysterical laughter.

"He reads minds." Bagoas spoke with amusement in his voice. He eyed the black horse. He had been with the King many times now to Boukepahlos' stall, but the animal, in his magnificence, beauty and mystery never failed to awe him.

"Aye, that he does." Alexander said as he stroked the black nose as he addressed the horse. "If you come, you must have a care for yourself. I cannot have anything happen to you. Do you understand? Your leg concerns me, yet I cannot baby you as I have little time." As though understanding him perfectly Boukepahlos lifted his head and neighed once. He stood patiently as Alexander lifted and studied his left foreleg and called for Timon, his personal groom.

Timon, a short, wry bow legged man of indeterminate age, who had lived with horses all his life, indeed he had been born among them as his mother, a Thessalian, the daughter of one of Philip's best grooms given over to unstoppable birth pangs had sought shelter in a stable to birth him. He came running at Alexander's call knowing immediately the King's question before Alexander could speak it.

"He will do, my Lord." A wide strongly calloused hand reached out drawing up Boukepahlos' left foreleg. He studied it while both Alexander and Boukepahlos wait. "It is not serious. Ten stadia is not too far if I wrap it well. I will pack extra poultices as well." He eyed the black eyed stallion who neighed at his audience and stroked his soft head. Boukepahlos' lowered his head as he deigned to accept the apple in Timon's hand.

"It is well, you are certain?" Alexander's voice was low as he leaned toward Bagoas who was fussing with something on his coat. "I will leave him here, even though he will be much displeased. Although he looks well enough to me, as well." Boukepahlos neighed once, loudly and prodded Bagoas with his nose. Bagoas looked about startled when this action was repeated.

"I do not under…" Puzzled he frowned then shouted in surprise as the long, black muzzle found its way into a pocket in his outer jacket. Alexander shouted at his horse, who ignored him, continuing to search the large pocket.

Bagoas began to laugh and pushed the black head away to so he could draw out a large piece of an orange wrapped in a piece of linen he had forgotten was there. Immediately it was snuffled and then disappeared into Boukepahlos' mouth. He then turned toward back toward the wall, where his blanket was hung and began to pull at it.

Alexander nodded with a wide smile at Boukepahlos' antics as he took the saddle blanket and smoothed it over Boukepahlos' back. "Very well, it is settled." He took Boukepahlos head in his hand and spoke softly, again in a soft whisper for a moment. It seemed to all present both man and horse were engaged upon a private conversation. Turning to Timon he gave orders to have Boukepahlos readied to leave in a half hour.

"I will await the poultices, if you wish and bring them to your tent so they are with your things, my Lord." Bagoas bowed with a shy smile. Alexander smiled back widely as he led his horse toward Timon who was preparing the bandages for his leg.

"You see to everything, I am most grateful." Alexander smiled his thanks and slapped Bagoas on the shoulder companionably. "Bring him with you when you bring the poultices. I will alert the guard of it." He shot a quick look at Timon who slowly shook his head in agreement as he turned while he was working to study the lithe, dark haired Persian. He knew this was unusual, as the King rarely allowed anyone other than himself, or the Lord Hephaistion to ride or touch his horse. Nai, clearly it was a sign of favoritism, now we all needs to be seen was how Boukepahlos would handle it.

Bagoas sat on a hay bale watching Boukepahlos stand calmly when Alexander took his leave. His long tail swished back and forth and he made a few odd little neighing noises almost as though he were talking to himself.

"Don't let him bully or bite you. "Eh, I know you well, beast, be a credit to your master." Timon stroked the black muzzle and cautioned as he led the magnificent black stallion from the stables. The stallion preened and sniffed the cool air as though he had been locked for days in the dry stables. Bagoas smothered a laugh at the antics of the horse. There was something there of Alexander. Firmly he took the reins handed him and the leather bag with the poultices. For a moment they stood silent facing one another, and then Bagoas brought his long, slender hand upon his neck to stroke him and rub his ears. He learned in toward those alert, pink tinted ears and spoke softly in Persian while meeting those large black eyes steadily. Timon's crossed his brown arms and stroked his beard surprised as he watched the youth lead the stallion away as though they had known one another all their lives.

"Ah, look at this I knew he would accept you!" His handsome, sun kissed face a wreath of happy smiles Alexander standing tent front speaking with Ptolemy trotted over to take the reins. "By the Dog, I knew it!" Again he clutched the stallion's head in his hands and kissed him all along his velvety, black face and whispered private words only they two knew. Again, he slapped Bagoas on the back then threw back his golden head, laughing heartily when the black stallion learned over and quickly flicked his long red tongue on Bagoas' face catching him unawares so that he stumbled a bit.

Alexander kept an arm about Bagoas' shoulders and whispered to him, giving his shoulder one final clap and vaulted on his horse, his voice full of his joy. Watching him ride off into this distance surrounded by the Seven, Bagoas sighed softly and excused himself to Perdikkas who had strode up and wanted to talk. He enjoyed the other man's conversation since they could speak in Persian, but for now Bagoas heavy with longing and wishing to dispel the unpleasant tenor of the thoughts transfixed in his mind moved toward his own chambers. He would be with Iskander this night, not Hephaistion if the gods were just, but they were not just, they were gods and saw to their own concerns first and man's next, and his, a seventeen year old eunuch last of all.

To be continued.


	12. Chapter 12

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.11

Alexander arrives at Hephaistion's camp only to discover things are not what he was hoping for, a mystery lies before them.

No Bagaos, sorry, although he is talked about. Yes, behind his back, too!

* * *

A rough and ready camp set amid a small valley of green forested glades and fast flowing sun kissed waterways amid in the vast stretches of dry, dusty plains of Zranka met Alexander's eyes as he and his small group of horsemen rode up. As they hailed the camp, it seemed the sentries appeared to take the sight of their king as men who had lived without hope and then discovered the gods were good as he was greeted with great shouts of joy.

"Here's a kingly welcome, 'eh Alexander!" Laomedon, son of Larikos and brother of Erigyus, grabbed up a skin of wine which seemed to appear from nowhere, and held it up with a flourish passing it toward Alexander, who shook his head in refusal. With a shout Laomedon shot a long flow of the liquid into his mouth and smacked his lips contentedly.

"So, where is the boy? Hephaistion, get out here!" Nearkhos let out a loud chuckle and punched Leonnatus in the arm as he rode in the rear accompanying the other members of the Seven.

Alexander flashed his childhood mentor a smile, but he was intent on the feeling that something wasn't quite right. More wineskins were pushed on him, along with more fervent greetings.

"Where's your pretty boy?" Taxis of Orestes, a companion of Krateros called out with a wide grin as his rheumy grey eyes searched the short line of riders. It had come to Alexander's attention the grizzled veteran had taken a liking to Bagoas and tried, at one time to buy his way into his affections.

"Far from your lecherous hands old man!" Laomedon answered for Alexander who burst out laughing. "You think the King would share his Persian treasures with the likes of you?"

"You should talk, Laomedon!" Alexander shot back with a grin. "My orders, go nowhere near Hephaistion and I'll, I'll…send you to the gold mines! As for you, Taxis, Bagoas sends his regrets, you'll have to make do with your own hands!" The men around him roared with laughter.

"Boy, you wound me! It's my brother; Erigyus had the hots for young Amyntor." Alexander just snorted in laugher at this when he found himself surrounded by soldiers who lead Boukepahlos' toward Hephaistion's tent.

While this greeting pleased Alexander deeply he was perplexed that there was still no sign of the man. Riding through the orderly camp his eyes and senses alert he felt a distinct unease. Perhaps it was the sense of being spied upon which he couldn't explain, but he could not shake the odd chill riding his spine. Boukepahlos, who had made the trip from the main camp as though it was a pleasant romp through fields of sweet grass pulled up before the largest tent as they knowing whose it was, and neighed in greeting to the guard there who called out loudly as though it were not already known that the King had arrived.

"There's a good many torches, did you note?" Nearkhos caught up with Alexander who was studying again what seemed to be an unusually strong ring of sentries at the outer perimeter, their long shadows caught by the bright flickering torches glowing with hot flame against the growing night gave more rise for concern. It was as though light was required here to combat a darkness against which even these men, veterans all would have for safety. With a shiver he caught himself thinking it was unlike Hephaistion to allow such superstition to rein about him. And where, the Alexander allowed with a slight irritation was Hephaistion! This was unlike him not to greet him especially now that he stood before his tent.

A singularly large bonfire was being built near the camp's center and for a moment, Alexander's breath caught as he looked about for the corpse and found himself fearful of whose it might be. However, as the high flames illuminated the coming night against Nyx' sons and daughters he scolded himself for such fanciful thoughts. Every man present knew well enough a funeral pyre was built at the camp's outer perimeter. As he jumped from his horse's back and gave him over to a page, he signed to Leonnatus who had followed in the rear with Nearkhos, and gave orders to take the tenor of the men quietly.

He leaned in close toward Leonnatus, his voice soft, as though a sixth sense warned him this was necessary. "Unless I am blind it seems less men than left with Hephaistion previously, and of those who had come out to greet us several are wounded or look exhausted. This is not usual for such a mission as this." Leonnatus' blue eyes answered his own thinking that this was not the tight unit of men who had left with Hephaistion near two weeks past on a diplomatic mission.

"The _Oneiroi _have taken hold of my men. They claim _Phobetor_ has taken shape from their dreams and walks these woods at night as a giant, red eyed wolf who seeks blood." Alexander's eyes flared at the words, but his breath came in a flood of relief as he whipped his head about to see Hephaistion who stood just inside his tent. He was leaning against the tent pole as though it were propping him up.

"There have been unexplained attacks, four men are missing." Hephaistion's voice was that of a man who was worn with care and longed for sleep. His fine eyes looked strained with great dark rings about them, and his face beneath the warmth Helios had given it was drawn and pale.

His breath hissing in concern Alexander strode forward and clasped Hephaistion to him. "What happened?" Fear gripped him as he felt the thickness of bandages against Hephaistion's broad chest. "How were you wounded? This was a diplomatic mission. I will have the bastard…"

Leaning into Alexander's strong embrace Hephaistion let out a breath of long relief and closed his eyes a moment. "Non, Arsames is loyal, I pressed our suit well, there were no problems there, he awaits you, but we met with tribesmen loyal to Bessos about fifty stadia out from Phrada. An arrow caught me in a skirmish while pulling Tekteon of Amphipolis to safety. The old bastard he got himself benighted when his horse went lame and was caught out unawares." He eyes were bright with fever which he had hoped Alexander would not see. He almost laughed to think such a thing could be kept from him. "Those bastards are hard to kill." He laughed a little then closed his eyes feeling his knees buckle on him.

"Laomedon!" Alexander yelled Laomedon came running and grabbed Hephaistion about the waist.

"There is more, about –"

"Non, rest, later, Hephaistion." The slightest tremor in Alexander's voice gave up his concern, but he conquered it in one breath as they lowered Hephaistion onto a stool.

"What happened, and is Tekteon well?" Knowing his men and camp were secure, Hephaistion allowed himself to be given into Alexander's care. He looked up into Laomedon's searching glance which made him feel a boy of thirteen and useless fool. "He is a good man with a quick mind, and steady hand that is why I assigned him you." Giving orders quickly Alexander with Laomedon's assistance began with great care to remove Hephaistion's corselet and woolen chiton.

"Oh, aye, the horse we had to put down as it broke its leg in a hole, but he is well as a babe in his mother's arms snug with his tent mates. An arrow got me near the shoulder." Hephaistion laughed then caught his breath as pain lanced through him as Alexander pressed gentle fingers against the wound.

"By the Mother, Hephaistion you're hot as a day in Loius! I can feel the damp of your skin through your corselet. Gods, you've taken fever, this is not good. I thank Askepilos your wound from Gaugamela is well healed. This is not nearly as bad thank Zeus, but all the same what am I to do with you?" Making tsking noises and keeping himself busy to keep his concern at bay, he called for warm water and his saddle bags which he searched for medicants. "Tell me of this wolf, is it so?" He kept up a steady stream of patter as he began to unpleasant business of soaking the bandage from wound.

"I cannot say, I have not dreamt nor seen it, but something is out there. Losing four of these men… Non, something is out there working unholy magic. I…gods Alexander! Are you trying to kill me? That is my skin!" Hephaistion growled low as the last bit of linen sticking to the arrow wound was finally removed.

"Drink!" Laomedon pressed a cup of water on him. "Zeus Savior!" With a sigh of impatience he caught the cup from Hephaistion's trembling grip and held it to his mouth. "Another, now get it all down. Wish you'd been this cooperative when you were younger, you stubborn mule. You've not been looking after yourself. Don't lie to me I can tell!" Hephaistion just glared at him but drank steadily until he announced he'd be pissing a river if he kept it up.

"Who sewed this up? You?" Alexander frowned and mumbled to himself as he snatched up a cup of wine pressed on him by a page.

"I did my best."

"Oh, nai, that is what I meant!" Alexander snorted with a short frustrated laugh. "Only you would attempt to close such a wound without stitches. Gods, Hephaistion what is your fear with needles? Well, there is nothing for it, it must be stitched up." He turned toward a page giving further orders to make sure a hearty soup was prepared for Hephaistion and drew from his pack a small leather roll which held fine needles.

"Where is Bagoas?"

Alexander peered at Hephaistion carefully and put his hand against his forehead again, but his eyes were light with teasing. "Your fever has risen I think else you would not speak so. Why would he be with me? He is not my shadow." For a moment he studied his friend and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "That is you."

"Ah."

"Ah? Have you something to say, Hephaistion?"

"Non…I… Gods Below! Alexander! I can feel that you know." He ground his teeth as the sharp prick of the needle broke his skin.

"Drink you water."

"Is that your answer to everything? I would prefer wine, a lot of it." Hephaistion grunted as he gulped down his seventh cup of water and closed his eyes as the needle continued its work. "Evil things! Gods, gods…ahh! Have a care I can feel that!" Alexander and Leonnatus, who by now had returned and was observing the doctoring both grinned and exchanged glances.

"As I recall you once passed out at the sight of one did he not, Alexander? I got the story from Ptolemy. 'Twas stitching a head wound you had taken, non? You sat on him to keep him still, or so I heard. You were…ah…a'hem…" His voice dwindled off recalling neither Hephaistion and certainly Alexander would thank him for recalling their exile in Illyria. Hephaistion swallowed another cup of water and made a face at Leonnatus.

"You will die soon, a she wolf will eat you and I will help." Hephaistion narrowed his eyes and spat at Leonnatus who had grabbed up a cup of wine and was seated on the ground to watch.

"Me or Alexander? I am not the one who is piecing your skin with that little…"

"Stop!" Alexander spun round on Leonnatus with a frustrated shout. "'Tis hard work enough with his constant squirming, do not tease him. Shoo, I'll speak with you soon enough, unless you've something useful to tell me." Leonnatus shook his head and met Hephaistion's eyes over Alexander's bent head.

"Undoubtedly you learned what I have told Alexander, something is in the woods." Hephaistion grunted out in between clenched teeth. Leonnatus helping himself to more wine and some figs looked thoughtful.

"Aye, so they said. I won't ask if you've sent out scouts, I know you too well." Leonnatus remarked as he slowly at the fig and took to more.

"At last, all thanks to Askepilos!" With a loud sigh of relief Hephaistion seemed to slump down when Alexander set the small instrument of torture aside and mouthed "finished," with a small grin. He gulped down more wine and eyed Leonnatus, Alexander and Laomedon. "I lost four men sending out to search the woods. Something is there, what I know not, but it is a beast, of that I am certain."

"How?" Alexander asked as he sat a moment eating some cheese and fruit a page brought up.

"They were torn apart, I thought at first a bear, but non, something else, they had been dragged some ways that was clear by the disturbance seen about them. These men all were strong and feared nothing. Whatever it is that puts such fear now into them, non, it is something beyond what is natural, _Phobetor_ or a _Stryx_, it is something must be stopped. I was unable to lead the search myself because of this." He motioned to his wound as a page brought a large bowl of warm water and Alexander bathed the wound area before applying fresh bandages.

"Tracks, have you found anything unusual?" Both Alexander and Laomedon asked.

"Oh, aye, many, too many, 'tis a large forest, many animals make their homes lion among them. I have seen the tracks, some larger than the other, but never anything unusual."

"When did the last man go missing?" Alexander asked.

"Two nights ago, the attacks come at night. I've set extra sentries and this night the bonfire. Last night it worked well, we were undisturbed." He sighed and leaned against the table that held a mountain of papers. "I'm sorry Alexander this wasn't the greeting I had in mind for you." Their eyes met with unspoken messages and Alexander muttered low so only Hephaistion heard.

"So much for a few days of pleasure." He caught Hephaistion's hand with a smile and looked about holding up his cup. "Well, a mystery is before us. A hunt of a kind, I think for this mysterious beast. What think you all, are you up for such as that?"

"Nai!" Hephaistion answered.

"Not you boy!" Laomedon laughed ruffling Hephaistion's short curls. "Your bed awaits, I'll help you to it.

"Letch!" Alexander chuckled. "Keep your dagger handy, Hephaistion." He teased as Hephaistion rolled his eyes and tried to grab a wine skin.

"No wine with a fever." Alexander scolded him, but pressed an orange on him he had been peeling. "This will ease your thirst, and the water is good here, keep drinking. Obey me else I'll give you into Laomedon's care.

Hephaistion narrowed his eyes at him and turned to Laomedon. "A kiss for a cup of wine, agreed?" Alexander burst out laughing at Laomedon who looked like Eros himself was beckoning from his bed and slapped him on his arm.

"Non, to both." Hephaistion look away attempting to look embarrassed, but couldn't stifle rising laughter when Laomedon bent down and whispered into his ear.

Leonnatus' bright blue eyes twinkled and he laughed at the friendly banter and antics as he bounded toward Nearkhos who entered the small and increasingly crowded tent space. "A hunt and more! Nearkhos, we are in for some fun! However, if we are to hunt…" He stopped a moment catching Nearkhos' bright inquiring gaze. "Krateros would be of good assistance." Alexander pursed his mouth thinking then nodded and called for a page.

"Bring me writing materials. On the morrow first thing I want this taken to General Krateros; I think we have need of him." Quickly he wrote a missive in explanation of the request. He sighed softly he had been looking to spending some time with Hephaistion without the usual concerns of camp and the campaign. However, at present Hephaistion needed most to rest and heal. It was enough for now to be together, again and enjoy his company.

To be continued….


	13. Chapter 13

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.12

Continues directly chapter 11, a tender interlude…

*_For Phaifan_

* * *

His arm about Hephaistion's waist, moving in slow small steps across the tented room, Alexander lead him into the small closet where his oak camp bed sat. Tenderly, almost as though tending a child he eased Hephaistion down onto the soft mattress and helped him out of his chiton smoothing a brilliantly checked blue, yellow and green woolen and fur blanket plus Hephaistion's own black bear skin cloak over him. Closing his eyes, his hand upon Hephaistion's wrist feeling the steady pulse of his heart beat its rich red blood beneath his fingertips he lingered. With the joyful certainty of a child who knows his Mother's presence before she appears, he breathed Hephaistion's scent that calls forth the promise of Pella's green wood's in bloom at the Dionysian and day breaking silver white of Helios' rising chariot against the limitless sky.

Turning away, with movements full of longing that must be denied he broke his wondering reverie and went back into the main room returning a moment later juggling a pitcher of water, cup, small flask of poppy juice and a red wool feather pillow. Trailing him, fourteen year old Karanos, the oldest of Krateros' young sons, newly assigned as aide to Hephaistion balanced a large bowl of cool water and several cloths which he set upon a small, flat topped brass bounded cedar chest near Hephaistion's bed. Aside from his armor stand this small chamber was bare of ornament.

"Here let me," Moving quickly Karanos took the red pillow and eased it beneath Hephaistion's curly head. "Is there anything I might do Alexander?" The tall, blond haired boy asked.

"It is well, Karanos, I'll tend him the rest of the night. Go to your own bed, you must be weary through. Thank you for seeing to his needs for me." He smiled and pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead. A deep flush of shy pleasure flooded Karanos' already rosy cheeks and his blue eyes much like his father's flowed with confident pride over Hephaistion's reclining form and his King. With a small unconscious bow he excused himself and disappeared.

"He has slept by my bed each night since the fever took doubling his own duties with caring for me. He's a good lad, bright and steady. Krateros has great reason to be proud of him."

"I can see that. 'Twill be a surprise to him to find his father come on the morrow." Alexander grinned as he handed Hephaistion half an orange and busied himself mixed a small portion of the poppy juice with water. "He got his boar last year as I remember. Recall you the feast Krateros' threw, he bought out half the wine stores in Persia's for it." Alexander grinned widely, his eyes glowing with pride. "He's a forward lad, brave, confident and hopefully blessed with that quick brilliance of his father, a second Krateros, nai that I look too with great expectation! We will watch his progress through the years. I knew he would serve you well. He is in good hands with you, I think! Nai, nai!" Hephaistion almost laughed watching Alexander. One might think he had fathered the boy himself. However, all the Companions knew Krateros' pride in his oldest son and his great hopes for him. "Think you he would be helpful in the hunt?"

"Oh, indeed, he cut his teeth on it at Krateros' knee when he was ten."

"Excellent, this endeavor then will be a worthy one and this beast that preys on men will find itself prey to our spears. Now, drink this 'twill ease the pain and aid your sleep. I'll be right here beside you, see?" His bare feet digging into soft, thick stuff of his wolf skin cloak atop the pallet already there curled against the warmth of the fur. He watched Hephaistion drain the cup and filled it with fresh water setting it aside where he could reach it should Hephaistion's fever rise and his thirst grow. For the briefest of moments Hephaistion lay quiet then kicked off the offending covers and held out his hand.

"I am not such an invalid you cannot lay beside me and talk."

"Non, much as I would like to…" Alexander grinned ruefully as his voice trailed off, then allowed himself with a small sigh of acceptance to sink down upon the heavy black fur and took Hephaistion carefully by the shoulder to push him down against the pillowing softness of his bed. "For I have dearly missed you, and I…ohhh…" He sighed softly then bent over Hephaistion who lay with the soft glimmer of a single brazier caressing his skin smooth and translucent like moonbeams. :"I fear…" he began his voice low and uncertain, "I... we would not sleep and you need your rest."

Hephaistion smiled letting a long fingertip trace a circular pattern across Alexander's face and down along his throat. "I need you more than sleep, if only to feel your heart next to mine." Alexander looked away a moment as though steeling himself against an inner demon, then leaned over dropping a kiss along Hephaistion's full lips. He rose a moment stripped off his chiton and lay on his side next to Hephaistion.

"We will talk and then you will sleep, Tion. I will not be swayed by arguments or anything else." He chuckled softly and pushed Hephaistion's hand away from its questing journey along his chest. Again, he kissed him, then caught up Hephaistion's hands kissing them as he locked them in his own, and wound his legs around Hephaistion's longer ones.

As the night grew long, they talked off and on, stopping now and then to simply lie awake their eyes exchanging the caresses their bodies could not. At length Hephaistion, with a great sigh of contentment, snuggling into Alexander's protective arm fell asleep. Alexander lay drowsing, half dreaming, spending a kiss here and there across his sleeping companion's lips and face, smoothing his Titian curl's beneath a hand that trembled with love and at length, his arm forming a protective circle about Hephaistion he too slept with a smile upon his lips.

To be continued….


	14. Chapter 14

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.13

Hephaistion's camp is under siege, but from what?

Happy Halloween!

* * *

The scream rose encircling the camp like the spreading wings of a bat rising high into the black night. Its terror wrenching man and beast alike, startling, shuddering, waking them from the arms of _Hypnos_ only to fling them into the open, waiting hands of the _Erinyes._

Alexander jerked awake, instantly alert as it repeated and died out in a long, slow wet painful gurgle then stopped cut off as in mid breath.

" Zeus protect us!" He shook himself, his heart pounding, the cry of agony echoing in his ears as though it had issued from his own mouth. "Hephaistion!" His voice shocked him, shrill and afraid, then died to a deep relieved sigh. Like a babe, Hephaistion slept, his breath coming easy, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. His face calm and smooth against the terror lancing men whose cries railed against the darkness.

"Alexander! Alexander!" Throwing on his chiton in a rush, he grabbed up his sword and ran from the tent. "Stay with him!" He shouted behind him to Karanos whose tall shadow darted out before him the flame of the torches revealing him.

Another scream, then his ears were shattered as it seemed a hundred voices ripped the crisp cool fabric of the Persian night. "It has come again! The Beast! Father Zeus! Alexander! Ahura Mazda! Protect us!" He ran toward what seemed a writhing knot of humanity, men and women both that had gathered toward the southern end of the camp.

"What has…" he stopped his breath caught deep within, his heart rattling against some ancient, unknown fear against the vision that lay before him. Grim, ragged, and forsaken by the very nature of the death, the remains of two bodies, one a child of no more than four, he guessed by the size of the head and small upper torso, the other assuredly a soldier, at least that was what might guess at by what was left, a partial torso and thigh, one of Hephaistion's men, and a leg, the lone survivor of what had once been a man lay tumbled on the torn, raked earth. As though gnawed by great sharp, tearing teeth and sheared by razored claws, the ground, the trees, the very apron of Demeter herself stained and reeking. Great wet black splatters and splotches that seemed to rise from an unholy spring flowed and fed the ground about these dead. Warily, in a manner that he had never felt in battle he moved forward. A score of eyes met his, all begging, crying out, imploring…

"It has moved to a village now." Laomedon, a blanket tossed across his naked form stood beside a weeping young woman. His eyes were dark as the faint tauntings of Phobos whispered in his ear. "This is more than a wolf, Alexander, it is more than mortal. It –" He turned as a woman screamed and a ragged figure crawled from the woods.

"_Moros_, _the Pho…noi…_Co…ome!" Taxis, Bagoas' admirer collapsed at Alexander's feet. His breath rattled in his mouth. "Son of Ze…Zzz…eus, beg yo… fath…! I…I…my eyes…_the Keres_!" With a cough he fell his blood painting Alexander's feet.

To be continued…


	15. Chapter 15

UnHeraldeded Strength, Book I.14

The hunt for the mysterious beast begins in earnest.

* * *

Daylight came bringing a deep sense of relief to those in the camp. As he stood by the pyre being built, the scent of blood, cloying, heavy and sickening sweet familiar to Alexander from battle nearly brought up his morning meal, as it caught on Zephyr's inconstant wing and was visited afresh upon him. Breathing deeply he closed his eyes against the scenes that had drawn those long, dark hours had pressed upon him. It seemed wherever he stood or went someone was crying out for his protection. Even he, the most constant of men, or so he considered himself, and felt Aristotle would agree, for he had pressed him toward such thinking, found himself consumed by superstition. He looked into the cool, endless horizon of sky, knowing that only in the light of intelligence and reason could such terrors in the fearful mind be fought.

After seeing to the pyres he checked briefly that Hephaistion still slept untouched, he went back to the site where he had ordered one of the remains to be left. He and his Companions had examined them the night long. His mind kept going back to something, a sense just beyond the easy reach of knowing taunted him. However, he could not get his finger on it and hold it long enough to reason it out.

"What think you, a beast, nai, but what sort?" He turned Nearkhos strode up his spear at the ready as he, a man of solid unshakable mind stayed close to the bright, hot flames of the bonfire which even into daylight was being kept up.

"I think I know, but I am most confused, for something is not right, yet what else could it be? I have… well, look here."

"At what? I see a leg, nai, 'tis sad 'tis cut off from the rest, but I have seen as such and more on the field of battle, and not lost my guts over it, pais." Alexander turned with a shout at Krateros who walked up jauntily, his entire being one great grin of confidence. His son Karanos following behind like a pup who worshipfully follows his master.

"By the Dog! How did you arrive so soon?" Perplexed and slightly awed both Nearkhos and Alexander studied Krateros' who seemed to bask in the adoration of his young son's eyes. He pulled him to his side wrapping his arm around his shoulders, but kept steady observant eyes on the scene about him. "I did not send back to camp until this morn with my missive." Krateros screwed up his mouth, his dark blue eyes thoughtful and waved his hand.

"That priest, the Egyptian, he came to my tent last eve and said you had great need of me. He speaks in riddles that one, and writes them down for us to crack our minds upon. I'll leave the cracking to you, Alexander. You bid me come, I am here." With a flourish, he pulled a small scroll from a pouch on his sword belt. "But in truth, what has happened here? For unless my vision has grown weak and my brains addled, something is terribly amiss."

Unrolling the scroll Alexander nodded and explained what had transpired.

"All this in a fortnight and Hephaistion has not been able to resolve it? That is unlike the man." Alexander frowned as quickly he scanned the familiar hand, wondering…

"_'For a time the Ka of Set walks the earth shaking it and rending it so that even the strongest man is a child when it abides with the tearing darkness. Look not to what you think and know, but what you may disbelieve, into the fires of Duat. When Ma'at weighs the heart men tremble, but fear not, if you are pure you will pass unscathed_.'"

Alexander looked up and his eyes met those of Krateros and Nearkhos, who made the sign against the evil eye. "Zeus save us!" He murmured to himself reading the riddle again. He knew it was allegorical. So a testing from the gods, but why and why here in this place?

"I know the ways of the gods are mysterious, but truly how he knew of this…" Krateros spoke softly as he looked about taking in what his eyes, ears and other senses told him was a mystery that would not be resolved easily. "I do not know. This is bad work, this." With a frown he hunkered down and began to poke a finger at one of the remains. "Look here, Alexander, how the flesh has been render and torn, with the wrench of great teeth. And, where is the rest of the body?"

"Aye, I have seen as much." Alexander said his eyes light showing the thoughts serving his mind. "I've a hunch, but Krateros how can such a thing be? Beasts, bears, lions, wolf, snakes, they all kill and I have heard that there is more than even this from the villagers who live nearby. Whatever this is there is little sound, and few tracks. However, the ground is grassy hereabouts, and many animals make this area their home. We have not looked into the right place yet, I think." He and Krateros strode to the pyre studying the bodies' laided out further, heads together, gesturing and examining. At length they turned away, going back toward Hephaistion's tent. Alexander called to Karanos who had been standing all the while by his father's horses.

"Go to General Laomedon, and the others of my private guard. Tell them we move now, there is no time to waste. I will await them in front of Hephaistion's tent. We go on foot, no horses. They are to remain here under strict guard." He turned and began to move quickly, both Krateros and Nearkhos falling in by his side. "I thank the gods, both ours and Setapas that you are here, Krateros. For I fear this is a mystery that no one of us will be able to resolve so easily. We will put our minds to it. I need to speak with Hephaistion. He must be waked even if he sleeps now."

"Karanos told me he was wounded and has taken fever. I will go and kick him about a bit, wake him." Alexander smiled feeling greatly relieved that Krateros had arrived. He was a hunter as himself, blooded very young, even more than himself as they did up in the thick wooded cantons of Oresteia. Now, if only Hephaistion could join with them… Well, there would be other hunts. The long hours of heightened urgency were beginning to tell on him and he was stricken by a sudden wave of weariness. Yawning, he thought with longing of the pallet near Hephaistion's bed.

"Alexander, wait!" Krateros had gone back to the remains still near the original site, and stood, his face drawn of color, but his eyes bright with an emotion Alexander could not begin to guess for it seemed one he had not seen before. "There is… Look, two different bites patterns, and this, see you what my eyes see? Yonder, those bodies…" He gestured toward the pyre set at the other outer camp perimeter, "Now look again, this bit here, two different sets of teeth, do you see it now?" Hunkering down beside Krateros, whose broad hand hovered over the remains pointing things out that caught his attention.

"I agree," Alexander arose thoughtful as he once against scanned the ground letting his gaze go further into the forest, his mind searching where his eyes did not yet go. "How I missed it I do not know myself." He frowned thinking. "It isn't like them, though, they do not kill like this. When they kill it is straightforward. These deaths, the way their have been killed…

"Ahriman has come!"

Both men started violently, and turned toward the sentries, where a great wailing mass of men, women and children from the nearby village flooded about the sentries. "Holy Zoroaster! Great King, Alexander protect us! Ahriman has released Apausha upon us!" A young man was leading a crowd carrying the remains of another victim, his old mother. Little remained but bloodied garments which had been found near a mile from the village.

"She flew in Apausha's gnashing teeth through the window and from my very eyes." The young man cried out. Hearing this last, slowly, Alexander met Krateros' eyes their hunch confirmed; their minds agreed upon the sense of it, but the implications… the actions of the beasts shocking to them.

"Lions!" Krateros breathed when Alexander mouthed the word.

To be continued…..


	16. Chapter 16

UnHeralded Strength, Book I. 15

Note: I have gotten several emails regarding various views, criticism, comments, opinons with regard to elements of this story and wanted to address them en masse. So here goes. I promise the story will continue tomorrow. Thanks for reading!

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With regard to the ancient Egyptian and Persian references in the previous chapter: Even though at the time this story takes place, roughly Winter 330 bce, Alexander was not yet recognized as sole ruler of the Persian Empire, one must remember that Alexander's final empire encompassed three great cultures all much older, than that of the current "Hellene" culture which his conquests spread: Persian, Egyptian and Indian. As Leonidas' and Aristotle's student he would have been familiar with Herodatos' _Histories_, which shows us a world already old to the younger Hellenes.

Then, as pharaoh of Egypt, and considered son of Zeus Amon, whose oracle he consulted at the Siwah oasis, Alexander would undoubtedly have had a working knowledge and possibly more, of various Egyptian's gods and possibly even the mythology that the average Egyptian, let alone average Hellene would not have had. He was a high priest in his own right in Macedonian as head of the house of the Temendi, and as such would have a keen ear and sense toward what would be appropriate toward the beliefs of other cultures.

As far as the Persian references ancient Drangiana, present day Iran, which is where this story, Book I, largely takes place, was part of the Achmeniad Empire. Its people would have prayed to their own gods, not Alexander's as they were not Hellene, thus they would have believed their evil gods and demons, (_Ahriman_, the evil aspect of the Zorostrian duality, called the "Destructive Spirit" or "The Lie", and _Apausha_, also Zorostrian, a horse that drank human blood) were tormenting them. I apologize for confusing readers with their reference when I neglected to write them into the story in a more descriptive manner. It won't happen again!

* * *

Lions were part of the animal population of ancient Drangiana, (modern Iran). For pictures of some beautiful "Persian" lions check out Wikipedia.

* * *

**_Eunuchs_**, we could debate all year long…the how's, why's and whatever's regarding ancient eunuchs in Persian and elsewhere in the ancient world. However, part of my goal with this story is to show not only that Alexander loved Bagoas, but saw in him someone worthy of notice, not as a "mere" eunuch, but companion, and possibily valued intrpreter, so to spreak, of an older empire that fascinated him, and thus may have been a "sharer" in the dreams he had.

One can debate the sexual issues, but Alexander's actions showed Bagoas was valued as much more than someone to have sex with. To say that sleeping with Bagoas because he was a eunuch and thus only worthy of such demeans Alexander, as the histories that have come down to us show us an Alexander, as a man who was restrained by reason and thoughtfulness with regard to sexual issues. His treatment of the royal Persian women, his views and intolerance of rapists also showed this considerate moral reasoning. One could argue as much in his treatment of Roxshanak, he did not have to marry her in order to gain alliance with her father. If he chose to pay a conquered people honor through this action, above all else, it showed the mind and actions of a remarkably forward thinking, shrewd and considerate man, especially at that time in history.

He did not have a reputation for sleep with slaves, or forcing anyone to his bed, the reputation that has come down to us is in fact quite the opposite. That he may have bedded his pages, was something that was part of the Macedonian, military culture at his court and his father's before him. It may well have been expected and was part of the way that insulated, military world functioned. Again, there is no reason to infer he abused any practice or individual. In Alexander's lifetime he was criticized for many things, but rarely his sexual preferences and treatment of others (well, except for Hephaistion's thighs).

While this story is primarily about Bagoas and his relationship with Alexander, it is also to show how Alexander attempted to meld the best from his own culture to the greater advancements he saw in these three great, already ancient cultures - just as Stone showed in his movie during Alexander's wedding scenes. I have always believed Alexander's greatness was not just militarily, but his insight and genius to see not only what was, but to manifest his visions of what could be.


	17. Chapter 17

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.16

The hunt commences!

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Into the tall grasses they went, Alexander and Krateros in the lead their spears at the ready - senses ever alert. The air, dry and slightly cool aided their hunt. Swift upon their feet, their warrior's bodies hard muscled and gleaming in the bright winter sunlight, they came on. Their movements occasionally revealed by the shrill echoing call of some bird of prey circling high above on Zephyr's wings who with a sense of foreknowledge followed. Well into the early hours of the second watch they continued, stopping for nothing, not even a midday meal. Against the high sun, they pressed on, each man thinking not of their hunger or thirst, but their companions and the poor villagers the beasts they sought had made a meal upon. At long last, coming upon an unknown rocky escarpment, Alexander called a brief break.

"Gods!" Laomedon groaned rubbing a knee, which was prone to ache at the most inopportune times. "Not a sign yet? What lions are these that leave no sign, but the bitterest traces of their unholy work? I'll – " Suddenly his froze, the water skin in his grip falling to the dusty ground his eyes hot as the blood beginning to rush within his veins. "Gods below!" He muttered as he glanced up, finding himself mere feet from a muscular lioness, her tawny muzzle dripping blood.

"Do not move…" Alexander's voice came from somewhere behind him. Laomedon's every muscle obeyed his eyes intent only upon the lioness. Switching her long tail, she nosed the ground with the bloodied nose and growled loudly showing her cleaving, bloodied teeth.

With a prayer to Herakles upon his lips, in one swift move Alexander released his spear. It hit true, but the lioness leapt as well in the same moment the spear left Alexander's hand. She fell upon Laomedon, her lithe, heavy muscles pulling him down. He roared in answer, as though her consort and they began the death dance, fighting, snarling, snapping, the glittering sharp blade dagger of steel against long raking claws. It went on forever or so it seemed to every man present, who felt they moved as though their limbs were taken with a frustrating slowness as they sought to aid Laomedon.

A great screaming roar wailed toward the heavens as his dagger slammed buried to the hilt sent the lioness into death spasms that caught Nearkhos a rough swipe against his leg and chest.

"Drive it home, again!" Krateros shouted as Laomedon did the same again, his dagger's blade pressing into the beating heart beneath the fur and muscle. Her large paw gave one final swipe against his face then she slumped against the earth.

"By Dionyisos divine cock!" Nearkhos muttered as he stood over the beast, wiping sweat from his eyes. "She's a big one."

"Aye, and she's Laomedon's!" Alexander sprang forward helping pull Laomedon to his feet, grinning, his face like his companions' striped with blood, "Good sport, Laomedon! A kill worthy of you, why I'll wager…."

He froze as did the others when a long, screaming roar shook the air, it repeated as though in warning and from the unseen heights above came into view a magnificent head. It tossed its great dark reddish mane, slammed a huge paw upon the ground before it and roared again. The air resounding, trembling beneath its song, Alexander, seeing it raised high his spear crying out a paean to _Herakles Kyrigios_. His blood fired, and his eyes glowed with the prospect of pitting himself against it. He tossed his own head, Helios' eternal rays gilding it, and with another cry he moved to meet it, his heart pounding war rhythms, his ears full of ancient songs of the hunt…the kill. He yelled a paean once more, the ecstasy transfiguring him as he shifted his body, and in one long, lithe swoop his feet left the earth to fly forward to meet the springing mane that flowed like fire in the air above him. The scream of raging warning surrounded him as for a brief moment, or so it was said by the companions later, it seemed the beast had transformed in its own flight, and both, man and lion, no longer separate, but some new god clashed against the all defining light of Helios which held them caught for a time before they fell to earth, separated once again.

His spear lodging mid-flight in the lion's ribs fluttered harshly as the great beast hit the bloody ground where its mate lay with a furious scream. Alexander flew from beneath its thudding paws, his bare chest wet with blood, great wide gashes bleeding freely staining, dappling the lion's golden coat with his sacred ichor.

Upon his feet in a moment he panted, catching up his breath, as he prepared again to meet this golden foe who rose also upon mighty paws to avenge its mate, and they crashed together until they fell back, at last, Alexander the victor.

He began to laugh as he lay upon his back, one great paw resting upon his arm, his face stained and spattered with blood.

"Now that was a sight!" Krateros shouted enviously, as he helped Alexander to his feet. "By Kereberus stinking breath, I swear Alexander, I thought you flew!"

Alexander grinned as he and Laomedon were pounded on their backs, greeted with shouts of congratulations. They set about securing the two beasts to poles, bantering back and forth, each man's mind full of stories to tell.

"Aye, there's a feast before us this, night! What say you, Laomedon?" Alexander grinning widely his eyes sparkling with pleasure, expectation and the exhilaration that made his every breath a joy for to him the hunt was life. "The villagers must come too, for there is much to celebrate." He turned to Nearkhos, "Hephaistion, can truly rest at ease now, his men are safe."

"He'll be envious as a maiden who has been spurned by a hoped for beau by another beauty!" Krateros' laughed as he bent down "blooding" his son, Karanos' dagger in the male lion's blood. Alexander wiped it against his bleeding chest and handed it back to his companion who raised the dripping dagger in his fist against the gleaming rays of the sun. "For Karanos, now it bears the blood of two gods upon its blade." "He's a good lad, I know he wanted to come, but he did as bid, and that old bastard Hephaistion will thank me for it."

"Aye," Alexander answered, winking at Krateros. "They'll be lion hunts enough for him to take part in. He's young yet, but I recall myself the desire to stir the fire within." The two lions' bodies lashed to two long poles, hefting them high upon their shoulders, they began their long way back toward camp, they voices high and victorious as they sang hunting songs old even in Akhillies' day.

To be continued…


	18. Chapter 18

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.17

Continues directly with Chapter 16, Alexander and Hephaistion discuss Bagoas.

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A great deal of celebration greeted the victorious hunting party. Word had run ahead of them, swift as the deer racing through the crackling underbrush, away from the sign of men, that the lions had been vanquished. Upon reaching the camp's outer most perimeter, within a few feet of the first sentry, the air was laced with the trumpeting shout of joy, cries and greetings of congratulations and praise to the King and his brave men. A large fire snapped smartly in the distance, several deer and small boar were set to roast. Their smoky, savory scent mingled with the yeasty odor of fresh bread. Meantime, stores of wine were passed about. Flowers were torn from bushes nearby and sweet scented petals of pink, yellow, violet sparkling like bright jewels in Helios' rays were tossed upon the victors as the villages came pouring into the camp, adding their own stores of meat, fruit and wine to the impromptu celebration.

"Leave it to you to kill the larger one." Alexander turned, his eyes shining at the laughter in Hephaistion's familiar bass as he strode slowly toward him. It was a goodly walk from the first sentry line to his tent, but already his color was better. Although Alexander noted he was still a bit stiff. At least the bandage had held, there was no sign of seepage through the light brown chiton. "How much of that blood is yours and how much his?" He nodded in direction of the lions that Alexander had brought back to camp to show the villagers the beasts that had preyed upon them were no more.

Running a hand through his sweat dampened hair Alexander laughed. "A good deal of both! "Twas a good hunt, you were missed." Hephaistion grinned in turn and walked toward the two lions that had been set upon the ground for the tanners to begin their work.

"The meat's good for nothing, the horses will not touch it." He toed the male with his booted foot, inspecting it. "But, nai, that is a kingly mane, and the fur in good shape, it was young yet, in its prime, the eyes are clear, the teeth not broken nor much greatly yellowed yet, nai, a good lion. It suits you almost as much as those great, bloody gashes!"

" Oh, nai!" Alexander answered easily touching the slashes on his chest. "A mighty foes' gift, I've borne as much before and well you know. Fret not I'll have them seen to, I promise! However, just now, I am more concerned with your wounds. You are looking better, but what do you strolling about as though on holiday in Corinth, where is your keeper?"

"Young Karanos?" Hephaistion chuckled, "I gave him leave to tend his other duties. Come with me," He grabbed Alexander's arm. "I'll see to those gashes myself. I can see they are mostly skin deep, but they need cleasning."

"Aye, mother!" Alexander chortled as he followed Hephaistion toward his tent. "We'll have a great feast tonight, Hephaistion. Are you up for it?"

"Very much so, yet we cannot linger here much longer, Alexander, much as I would like to, there's so much to speak of, yet it seems so little time or privacy to do so."

"I too wish we could linger, a good rest would suit us both, but… Well, there is work before us, there is nothing for it. We'll rest this night, and on the morrow we'll return to main camp."

"Agreed, as we discussed earlier, Arsames is very willing to serve you, and seeks now only, your official declaration of his appointment as satrap of Drangiana. Eumenes is at the main camp, and I've need his services before this can be done."

"Nai," Alexander answered, then paused a moment to give a quick order to his pages for clean clothes and a bath made ready, as he took a cup of wine swallowing it down and gesturing for another. "I suppose. I had hoped…" Their eyes met full of longing, Hephaistion nodded smiling gently his eyes flowing over Alexander.

"I know, so much wears on us, our duties, and the needs of others have now become my life. Yet, all I have wanted was to be with you, no matter what is asked of me."

"I know I ask much of you, and you give…" Alexander voice's was kept low as he sedttled himself with a groan, on one of the stools someone had placed beneath the tent's awnings and stretched his sore mucles. Hephastion's tent was full of men coming and going in their various duties. They sat beneath the awning, Alexander letting the air cool the sweat from his body and Hephaistion, though stronger showed a bit with a trembling of his hands his need of further rest. They munched apples, and drank wine while they talked.

"Oh, Hephaistion, you give so much of yourself to meet my needs and duties." He placed a hand on Hephaistion's broad shoulder, and placing a kiss upon his cheek. "The gods were kind to me when we met, and I will not forsake our love, not for anything. Without you, I should be as a shade grieving on the dark plains before the House of Death."

Hephaistion raised his brows and grinned at his companion as though he were a small child who had voiced unexpected desires. "Alexander you are becoming morbid and fanciful. It is unlike you."

"Perhaps not." Alexander answered his eyes dancing belying any true cause of concern.

"Oh?"

"Well, I did just kill a lion." Hephaistion snorted with laughter.

"And, this is something new to you?" They grinned at one another, each knowing the other's mind well. With his good arm, Hephaistion gestured toward the small group of tanners who had taken over the lions. "So, what of this one, what will use it for? To wear it, non, I think not, for the other you wear is still in goodly shape."

"I thought to keep its hide for a rug, I can use another. I gave one away."

"Oh, to whom?" Hephaistion nodded absently, studying the blood dappled skin of his companion, and the large gashes where the claws had caught him, he would see to them once Alexander bathed. The heat of the water would cleanse them as well as the wine.

"Bagoas, he had none." Alexander looking a bit abashed shrugged and Hephaistion burst out laughing.

"Aye, I suppose he would not have need to hunt his own." He paused, a sudden frown breaking his smooth forehead. "Think you, he wishes he were a man full? Has he ever spoken of it with you? I mean, were he, he would be here, and hunt with you. I… I've not expressed it well, have I?" Hephaistion closed his eyes and breathed deeply, a thing he rarely did except in deep consideration of something. "Aye, I know, 'tis not an easy thing to ask, but at times I see something in his eyes, a longing for what might have been. I wonder sometimes at the gods and their cruelty." Alexander's look urged him on.

"That one man is born to be…as I, or you, a King, while another, such as he is less than both."

"That is only if we consider because of what he has borne he is less than. I do not."

"Aye, nor do I, but I find myself feeling a…" Hephaistion frowned again, more deeply, his face suddenly so full of despair Alexander touched his arm.

"What grieves you so about this?"

"Non, 'tis not…" Hephaistion shook his hand off, and sighed impatiently. He tossed his head, his eyes dark and wild as though a storm brewed within himself, a sign Alexander knew he must have a care with, and he nodded for him to continue. "'Tis not for myself, but he, when I questioned him when first he came, as I began to know him, I began to realize he was as us in many ways. I watched him as he spoke; I peer beyond that beautiful mask and saw something briefly, so briefly I felt perhaps I had imagined it. Yet…I think not. I…feel for him, Alexander, and I cannot say why. Why should I, a Macedonian, a man born into a noble house, a warrior whose ancestors fought his for the sake of our freedom from the Persian yoke, feel something that disturbs me to my very soul for a Persian youth of seventeen?" He looked down, as though at his feet, as though something there upon the ground could give answer. "Yet I do, Alexander. I wish him well, and perhaps even more, I wish him joy."

Alexander leaned against his friend, and smiled softly when Hephaistion looked up. "This is but one reason my heart flies on great wings of joy when I see you. You have great compassion, Hephaistion. It has saved me times beyond counting from a depth of grief that might have tipped me away from the reason of Apollo."

"Ah, you…who are you... but the other half of myself." Hephaistion tried to make his voice light, but Alexander knowing its nuances well looked into the violet eyes which were bright with unshed tears. "Make him happy, Alexander, be kind to him. 'Tis not my place to ask, I know, but I…I ask for a reason I cannot speak to and can only begin to guess at. Perhaps one day I will know the truth of such things, but for some reason it touches me this way."

"Perhaps, Hephaistion in his eyes you find a mirror." With great tenderness, which he usually took great care now not to show for Hephaistion, except in private, Alexander took him into his arms.

To be continued…


	19. Chapter 19

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.19

Continuation of Alexander and Hephaistion conversation re Bagoas, themselves and well, then they get into a deep discussion… * Correction below:

**_Aphrodite Anima: love of the body, physical desire often associated with intimate, sexually expressed love._

_**Aphrodite Urania: agape, as the ancient Hellenes saw the greatest love, selfless love to be from or of the soul, to the ancient Hellenes the greater form. (I may be off with my spelling, my library is in storage and I am using my old research notes, sorry.)_

* * *

"Would you… " Alexander stopped in mid speech, quirking his mouth, tilting his head to the side in a manner Hephaistion's had long been familiar with.

"Alright, out with it! I know that look, what secrets are you keeping from me?"

"Secrets…" Alexander began shaking his foot, another mannerism Hephaistion was long familiar with. "Would you think ill, less of me…" Hephaistion grinned, then immediately hide it behind his hand and tried to make his gaze cold and distant, it would not work, but he felt the need to see how Alexander might react.

"I know you slept with him. There I've said it for you." Hephaistion placed a quick peck on his nose, something he knew Alexander hated. "I knew you would, do you not recall, and as I said then, do not lose your heart to him, for that is mine alone."

"It is I think, _Eros Anima, _and your heart is safe_."_

"Aye, I'll grant that you a little, but for you it must also be _Eros Uriana_, else you would not share yourself with him that way. I know you enough to see the signs of tenderness in your face, Alexander. It does not wound me."

"I do care for him, I will not say I do not. I will not give a lie others may wish upon him voice. He is a help to me, a joy in ways such as you are, also. Each man and woman has their own joy to spend upon us, do you not think this is so"

I know you too well, Alexander, even with Barsine, I knew you cared for her, indeed, for a while I was jealous of her. She knew you first, even before me."

"Barsine?"

"Nai, I…" He stopped then looking away, suddenly a pain showed in his eyes which Alexander caught when he pulled his face back toward him.

"Hephaistion?"

"Stateria, I know we agreed never to speak of it again, but she…I was jealous. I feared her, I think, more so than anyone else. I had never seen you that way before, well, other than with me. Your joy, the pleasure I could see her company gave you."

Alexander blinked his eyes feeling his head reel. "Hephaistion, by the gods, I never knew! Why did you not speak of it? I…I could not, had I known you felt as such I would…"

"But Alexander, she brought you something you needed, then. I know Ada was also tender to you when we were at Halicarnassos, oh, I know nothing happened between you, she was of your grandmother's age, but she, we spoke… I told her of some of the things your mother, your troubles. I hope you will forgive me." Alexander stared hard at Hephaistion, but his gaze softened with each moment, and slowly he shook his head gripping Hephaistion's hand in his tightly.

"Forgive you? You misunderstand, Hephaistion, true, I had never felt such with a woman before, and I will not lie and say, I did not care, but Stateria was not you, even had she been a man she was not you, could never had been. My soul…" Alexander growled in irritation and frowned, slapping his hand on his leg hard. "Hephaistion, she, they…none are you. There is only one Patroklos, you are my very breathe of life."

"You know you never had a chance.' Hephaistion continued studying Alexander's expression, and praying he would not lose his temper as he spoke. "I could see the moment Sissygambias knew you would keep her and her family well and honor them; I think she and Stateria put their heads together to ensnare you." Alexander's eyes grew large and he jerked back.

"My dear, you still do not understand women."

"Wha…" Alexander shook his head, looking startled and then felt his face flush hotly glad Hephaistion could not read his thoughts. He allowed himself to pretend he was listening intently, and sighed finally steeling himself against the joys of _Eros Anima_ he desired to share with Hephaistion.

"I had it from Ptolemy, who had it from Laomedon, who had it directly from Sissygambias' personal eunuch, since she and her mother could guess the outcome of the war; Stateria decided she would rather bed a handsome young barbarian than her half-brother who was nearly twenty-five years older than she. Stateria was a beautiful woman, and you are Apollo himself. Who could blame her?" Alexander continued to look dazed then at length began to laugh.

"It was to be kept secret. Gods, Hephaistion the lengths we took to see that Stateria's eunuch did not know, so that Darius would not. I… To think…I, how many others besides you, Ptolemy and Laomedon?"

"None, no one, I have made certain of it."

"Even Krateros does not know. Does he?"

Hephaistion shook his head, "Not unless he got it out of Ptolemy or Laomedon somehow. Sissygambias will not speak with him, unless you are present, nor will her eunuch.

"You are not jealous still?" Alexander asked in such a small voice, Hephaistion frowned at him. "I do not want to lose you, Hephaistion. Would it please you I will put Bagoas away."

"Alexander, stop!" Hephaistion grinned. "It would not please me, for he gives you comfort and love when I cannot. Do you think me so small a man in myself that I would see you go without because I am not the one there to give it you?"

"Non, never! That is not who you are Hephaistion, and that is another reason I honor and love you. Ah, though I must ask…what of Bagoas, are you -"

"Jealous?" Rather than laugh as Alexander half expected his companion to do, Hephaistion looked thoughtful, closing his eyes again. "A little, how could I not? He is where I wish, long to be, but cannot. If there is jealousy, it is for that, for I miss you dearly, Alexander."

"Nai, I, I am glad, I miss you so much, sometimes it eats at me and I feel I will go mad with missing you. I think that is when my temper drives me on and I wound others with harsh word. For I think then, if Hephaistion were here he would understand, he would know my thoughts, he would not vex my mind with stupidities. I would know I would sleep that night for you would be in camp, seeing to what I could not just then. I miss your touch, your scent...the way you moved me when we were youths and it was allowed we might be intimate without anyone speaking or thinking ill of either of us. It is not so now, do we continue as we did then, I would cause you to lose your standing, your honor, and that I cannot ever do for it would be selfish of me, and unworthy of you. I owe you too much, Hephaistion; the body's needs are a small sacrifice to give you the honor you deserve." They sat silent a moment, then Alexander continued, his voice lighter.

"I must confess though, I did think of sending Gorgios back to Pella when you took him as your eromenos." At this disclosure Hephaistion did burst out laughing.

"Truly, Gorgios, who worships the ground you step upon?"

"But he worships you more, or at least your cock, I am not certain, yet. Perhaps I will have to question him, privately, of course." Hephaistion, who had not stopped laughing, began to laugher harder, so much so that his faced turned red and he began to cough and then gasp for breath. He refused all assistance, but finally took another cup of wine.

"That's it, back to bed with you. I knew you ought not be out just now. You were nearly raging with fever last night."

"I was not, fevered aye, but raging, non." Hephaistion answered feeling a bit dizzy as he began to sweat. He set the wine aside and called for water, and questioned Alexander's concerned gaze with a grin as he sipped the water.

"I think Alexander, I will speak with honesty, I…I was more worried when you said you were thinking of taking Hektor to your bed. I knew you care for him, greatly, I thought then, perhaps I might finally have an opponent for your love.

"Oh, non, Hephaistion!"

"Alexander, you see I would have understood it, I too cared for Hektor, how could one not, he was all that was good and beautiful."

"What…what? Speak up, I cannot hear you." With a smile, Hephaistion glanced over at Alexander, who had mumbled under his breath.

"Well…it is well I did not, for I would have had to deal with Parmenion and Philotas both."

"You never said anything. At least once, though, I thought you did sleep together." Alexander looked down suddenly enamored of his feet. "I was curious…"

"Aye, I was too." Startled they looked at one another then burst out laughing.

"Gods, Hephaistion, I will end up as my father, else I mend my ways. You too? I did not know. When?"

"After Issos, he…ah, well, you know I saved him from a Persian spear. I told him he did not need to, I was not like his brother, and expect favors of that sort, but I was not persistent enough in my refusal."

"He conquered you?"

"I am afraid so. I miss him; he was a good man to have at your back in battle. Good for a bawdy story, rolling a pair of dice, and hearing, honestly of… of my love for you. He ears grew sore upon it, but he understood. How, I do not really understand, but he did. At times, I felt there was a wisdom in his soul of a much older man."

"He did speak once of being much taken with the teachings of Pythagoras, and reincarnation."

"Alexander, the bath is ready." Kleon one of the pages Alexander had brought with him, interrupted. Alexander dismissed him, giving he and the other pages to go and seek food and pleasure with their fellows at the feast taking place.

"While, I bathe, you, my friend, will lie on the bed and rest. I want to hear no more from you than your occasion non, or nai, when I speak with you."

Hephaistion rolled his eyes and shook his head in acquiesce, but kept a small, secretive smile on his face.

"Gods, that is good!" Alexander groaned as he lay back in the bath closing his eyes against all but the gentle lapping of the water against his hands and Hephaistion's voice. He began to drift off then jerked awake.

"Lie back; close your eyes, again." The pleasant sound of water dripping softly into the quiet drew him inward. He allowed his wounds to be washed and when he too came to rest beside Hephaistion on his bed, they looked at one another, their hands catching together, and smiled into one another's eyes, speaking in a language of a love that was so rich, so profound, that it would always remain the very breathe of life to each of them.

To be continued….


	20. Chapter 20

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.20

Alexander and company enjoy a festive evening…

* * *

Feasting went on until well beyond the beginning of the third watch. Reclining at ease, in a playful mood, next to Hephaistion, Alexander tossed a garland of fragrant wild roses to Krateros who placed it rakishly upon the long, black hair of the, red cheeked young girl cuddled into his arm. "Here's luck for your conquests this night." Both he and Hephaistion winked and the girl blushed, Krateros grinning and waxing amorous until Hephaistion grabbed him by the arm, and Alexander picked the girl up in his arms and followed the small trio toward Krateros' tent.

"What of me, Alexander? Can you find me a sloe-eyed goddess or a beautiful boy, a Persian perhaps of seventeen with long black hair?" Laomedon chuckled and ducked when an apple flew just missing his head by mere inches.

"Do your own pimping!" Hephaistion called out, grinning.

"Nai, Alexander? Have you need of Hephaistion this night for I am lonely and hear he sings with a lovely voice." Shouts and whistles accompanied a rain of apples and other items that pelted Laomedon as, laughing, he grabbed one in mid flight biting into it while ducking empty wine cups and fading garlands.

Ptolemy looked up from where he was drowning in the arms of two comely, buxom dark eyed girls who giggled hysterically when he attacked them with a barrage of wine scented kisses.

"We are old men, Hephaistion," Alexander looked to his companion who was trading insults with Laomedon, who was staying put on his own couch, just barely. "We will seek our beds and rest in the solitude of our lonely thoughts while they…" He gestured with one hand, the other filled with a brimming silver wine cup which sloshed red liquid about whenever he moved his arm. He was somewhat in his cups and in great good humor. "They, these men of great erotic renown," He held his cup high, silver gilding upon wood and ivory shining like the moon's rays in the brazier light, "whose feats are well known, trumpeted from valley to vale throughout all of Hellas and Persian," He leaned to the side, and spoke _sotto vocce_ to Hephaistion, "Especially Krateros, Ptolemy and Philotas, whom, alas is not here with us this night." At this there was loud cheering, a lot of bawdy jests as flowers and scented garlands rained through the air as the though Aphrodite herself was tossing them with her divine hand from the hallowed halls of Olympos.

"You are in good form tonight, Alexander! Perchance, you rested well from your long labors with that kingly beasts you sought?" Nearkhos called out from a bit further down the tent length where he was standing with a one of Hephaistion's aides, stroking his blond curls and pressing kisses on him.

"You mean Hephaistion? He does have a somewhat fiery mane does he not?" Laomedon shouted in jest.

"Oh, aye, I am –"Immediately the air in the dining tent change, as Alexander and every man present tensed hearing what they had hoped they would not.

"Lions!" In an instant he was sober and nearly every man with him. Checking their sword belts, cleaning their daggers and shouting back and forth, they became in an instant warriors long used to battle and surged forward from the tent, their lesser desires forgotten. With Hephaistion panting breathlessly behind him, which earned him a scowl and the order to retire to his bed, Alexander turned to Nearkhos, "Krateros rouse him, now!" Smartly, all desire for the blond curls of the youth forgotten Nearkhos plunged into the night bawling Krateros' name as though on the field.

Frowning, squeezed by Hephaistion who gripped his shoulders, nearly driving his nails into the skin, and colliding with Krateros who ran from his tent at breakneck speed, wearing only his sword belt and the sheen of Eros' inspired sweat upon his brow, Alexander grabbed up a flaring red torch and searched the ground. Nearly, a quarter stadia away they found drag marks, but no blood, not the slightest drop.

"Alexander! Quickly…for I cannot, I…" Kleon his young page stood as frozen some ways down the main street of the small camp. As he met the youth, placing his hands firmly on the trembling shoulders willing him to calm himself, he took in the boy's grey eyes huge and staring as though he had glimpsed Medusa, his face paler than a corpse's, all color drained. "They came as though with Hermes winged sandals on their clawed paws, grabbed up Myron of Olynthos and vanished! I have never seen such a thing; he'd not even time to scream. They are not mortal beasts, Alexander! They are not! They are accursed! Zeus has denied us! They… never have I seen such lions, that one yonder," With a hand that trembled so greatly his entire body seemed to shake as well, he pointed toward the skin of the large male that was tacked out to dry. "That one yonder is as a cub new from its mother's womb, a toy! They are of the Titans!"

"They must have broken his neck." Hephaistion muttered as he studied the scene before him, noting the large width of the drag marks. "Lions do not act as this."

"These, I think are not lions." Krateros answered measuring with his foot, which was quite large, across the muddied ground where the drag marks were. "And, nai, there are two. There is another, see here, an unholy pair!" He directed them toward the widely disturbed swath of dirt that showed the imprint of another body just a ways ahead of the other.

Alexander turned, his eyes wild, golden hair near standing on end, but his voice measured and thoughtful as he shouted to Laomedon. "Quickly find out who else is missing."

"What are they?" He asked as though to himself, his words slow, shaking his head back and forth, disbelieving slowly, appearing as dazed by the sight. The pug marks were at least the size of his forearm and sunk a good two inches into the ground. "Their size…!"

He caught his breath as he hunkered down near Hephaistion and Krateros who likewise to stare in disbelief at the huge pug marks, which looked the circumference the moon full up in their eyes. Hephaistion pulled back, his breath fast and harsh as his eyes told him what his reason could not.

"The Hyperborean Giants have resurrected the Nemean lion from Haides!" Someone cried in fear and the words began to echo throughout the black night.

To be continued…


	21. Chapter 21

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.21

We find Hephaistion and Krateros together having a very curious conversation.

* * *

About an hour past sunrise, a brisk wind bringing with it the scent of rain slapped Krateros' face. He yawned, having had less than four hours' sleep as a result of the previous night's disrupted feast. He turned, brushing his wavy blond hair back behind an ear, and impatiently extended his arm to his companion as they climbed a small hill. "Your bed is the place for you. You do nothing but slow us down, and risk bringing Alexander's anger down on my head for being fool enough to let you do this foolish thing. If I didn't love Alexander so much and trust your instincts I'd kick you all the way back to camp!" Hephaistion, checking the grey clouds overhead half snarled at him, but slogged on, ignoring the pain rising in his shoulder and sound of the voice around him.

"At least drink this! I can't sound the sound of your wheezing! You'll do me little good if you die out here. Hurry up, there are marks here, let's measure them."

"I won't die." Hephaistion said dryly as he measured the ground and made notes in a small wax tablet he stuffed in his sword belt.

"Better not or by the Hundred Handed Ones, I'll hunt you down in Haides' house and kill you again. Alexander will exile me if something happens to you." Krateros huffed and sank onto a nearby boulder, wiping his face with his arm while taking a swig of water from a skin.

"He'd do the same to me." Hephaistion muttered as he checked his measurements once more. "So did he really kiss you when he was ten?" Krateros, who clearly wasn't expecting the question, broke into a non-stop coughing fit.

"Gods, Hephaistion! Where did you hear that? No…" He held up a hand, shaking his head back and forth and met Hephaistion's grinning face.

"Ptolemy!" The both answered for each other and began to laugh. Then Krateros got up sniffed and moved about in a manner that might seem odd to some checking behind rocks and dry, brown bushes.

"Enough, we're alone, no one followed us. I made sure of it." Hephaistion sighed in pleasure as he took a rocky seat, pausing from his scribbles to wipe the sweat from his face and drank a good deal of cool water. "I'm not quite as bad off as I made it seem. Alexander's busy back with Laomedon. He's sending a letter to Aristander about the lions. Knowing him well, as I think we would agree he will pit himself against them…he is ancestor to Herakles, and, well, you know the rest."

Krateros nodded his agreement as he eyed his tall, well muscled companion thoughtfully. "Thought so, you're a hard man to keep down. Not as bad as Alexander, but close, I… Well, at the very least Bagoas is earning his keep. Alexander seems content with him." His voice trailed off, he dusted off invisible dirt, not quite meeting Hephaistion's eyes.

Hephaistion rolled his eyes, and huffed loudly. "I don't care what he does with Bagoas. So long as he keeps him content and calm, my life is easier. I cannot be in two places at the same time."

"Aye, I hear you there." Krateros allowed shaking his golden head. He wore short golden hoops in them and they glinted in the sun, Hephaistion studying the man nearly snorted at the occasional dandy that would come out in the man. As much as he was proud of his appearance Krateros was, when he chose one of the most vulgar, cutting men he'd ever met. Drawing his long legs up under him, Krateros pulled a straggly bit of root from the ground nearby and after inspecting it with care, began to chew it thoughtfully. "So why the elaborate ploy?"

"This…" Hephaistion handed across a small scroll and stood thoughtful while Krateros read.

"How did you come by this?" He ran his finger over the thick red seal, Philotas' private seal.

"Ptolemy and Erigyus gave it me." A slight smile, mysgterious and secretive bloomed on his face as he sat down again with a soft groan.

"What?" Krateros frowned as he rolled it back and then unrolled to read once more.

"'Twas Bagoas' doing, he got the letter in the first place."

"Bagoas! That, that…! Well!" Krateros nodded his face thoughtful, a slightly leering grin on his face. "I can see it, change the clothes a bit, he's a lovely girl. You know Philotas…"

Hephaistion shook his head, chuckling and grinned. "No, he's smarter than that, Bagoas, not Philotas. He was passing by Philotas' tent, heard Philotas talking to someone, insulting Alexander. He wouldn't tell me, but Ptolemy knows. The gist of it is he wrote a letter to his father, complaining about "The Boy" again. Arrogant asshole! I despise him!"

"I know." Krateros said and their eyes met in perfect understanding.

"I believe Bagoas would kill Philotas with his bare hands if he thought he hurt Alexander. At least that's what Ptolemy said and I agree."

With a soft sound of agreement Krateros offered, "He's not soft, I'll give him that. Too bad he's not a girl, now that I could manage."

Hephaistion snorted rolling his eyes again, but kept the rest of his expression straight as he took the scroll from Krateros' outstretch hand as he drew his cloak tightly about his shoulders. "Anyway, Bagoas watched as Philotas gave an aide the order that Parmenion must get this immediately. Our resourceful Persian followed the boy, and when he saw the opportunity he stole the letter. Apparently, Philotas' aide was lazy, and it fell from the pouch on his sword belt somehow."

Krateros set his face hard as his eyes read the horizon before him, his feeling about Philotas writ clear. "He's becoming worse with each day, more arrogant than before! He insulted Alexander to his face just before we left. Alexander was half mad with agitation hearing you'd been taken ill, and ignored most of it, but I do not." His lips set in a firm line, his eyes sparked with anger.

"Ever since we left Egypt," Krateros continued, "Philotas has become bolder, less controlled in his respect to Alexander. He blamed Alexander for Hektor's death, belittled him when he had the oracle at Siwah. Now, to do such as that…'tis the work of a man who is tired of life, Alexander forgave him, but he will not forget. He called him a foolish boy and gave his reasons why Arsames was a bad choice for satrap. Alexander's response was pretty mild, he just smiled and ignored him, but Philotas screwed up, he said both he and his father, doubted Alexander's true intentions as Hegemon, felt a Macedonian, preferably of their choosing should be satrap, and not some "barbarian lackey". Alexander did not take it well."

Hephaistion raised a brow, and coughed a little. "I don't doubt it. He knows what he's doing, but Parmenion is constantly barraging him with letters reminding him of his duties as Hellas' Hegemon, and to his father's memory, and to recall that Macedon, Hellas once languished under the Persian yoke."

"He didn't want anything to upset Arsames appointment, and fear Bessos might have got to you. Thus his urgent ride to your side, he's faithful, I'll give him that." He grinned at Hephaistion winking. "You two still that way? You were awfully quiet last night, not a sound came from your tent." He smacked his leg hard laughing at the look on Hephaistion's face. "I heard some stories about you two from Nearkhos when you were studying with Aristotle." Hephaistion finally burst out laughing, but wanted to half slug him, instead he rolled his eyes.

"We'll be back at camp soon enough, you can fuck your latest girl then, hold off a little longer, Krateros. I promise I won't keep you." At that both men burst into loud comradely laughter, and slapped each other on the back.

"Enough!" Hephaistion chuckled wiping his eyes. "As I said some of it was a setup, I wanted to get him away from camp. He's needs to see how it is with Philotas and his father, and without Philotas becoming aware of it."

Krateros grinned brightly coming to sit beside Hephaistion and snatched the water skin. "And, we two are the just the men to see it done. Keep his mind on these unholy beasts and we will introduce this to the conversation." He reached out snapping up the scroll which he flourished in his hand. He sat back at ease grinning from ear to ear as he looked over Hephaistion's shoulder making remarks about the notes on what they had observed of the lions so far. "Man eaters, Hmm….'tis not common in lions, but I will give them a bit longer. When Alexander is ready for them then we will see a thing or two not seen before, I am sure of it. I love a good hunt!"

Hephaistion simply raised an eyebrow and continued on with his notes, but he smiled at what he had determined to be a fine mystery ahead of him.

To be continued….


	22. Chapter 22

UnHeralded Strength, Book I.22

Direct continuation of Chapter 21. Things are not going well for Hephaistion

* * *

Taking their time to reach their horses which were tied below round the shattered, but still strong trunk of a tall green pine, Hephaistion and Krateros climbed down the short rocky hill they had spent their morning on. A strong wind accompanied by snow flurries which had begun dampened their hair and clung to their eyelashes. Wafting through the cooling air the pungent scent of the small pine woods that lay below them. The long warbling cry of a brown, black and white feathered hawk which sat watching them on a branch nearby cut into the keening wind.

"I thank Apollo we will ride away from this, rather than into it." Hephaistion said as the snow began to fall more quickly. He coughed, frowning when he felt a lancing pain in his lung when he tried to drawn deep breath. "'Twas well we got an early start. At least, with this gift from Zeus, few beasts will stir from their lairs to hunt. The _Nephelai_, the cloud maidens_" _he looked up into the graying clouds which moved slowly above_, _ "See there, there have put on their grey robes. Still, they are lovely, the pearly glow from their filmy rainament dances about their small feet." He tried to laugh, but began to cough, a rough hacking sound.

Krateros flashed him a quick glance, become disturbed by the harshness of the cough. "Keep that cloak tight about you and do not cough! Alexander will strangle me do you even break a sweat! Were it not for that bastard Philotas this subterfuge would be unnecessary." He grumbled as Hephaistion continued to wax oddly poetic about the clouds. "The lions are a problem, nai, I grant that, but Alexander and I can handle it. I swear by the Hundred Handed Ones, if you take ill, worse than you are now and Alexander blames me, I will kill Philotas."

Hephaistion turned slightly giving Krateros a sickly grin. "I am well enough. I am in my prime."

"Oh, nai, you look it!" Krateros drawled shaking his head. "You may be brilliant, pais, but right now, your stupidity astounds me. Nearkhos, Laomedon, any number of the other Companions could have come –" He cut himself off with a loud groan.

"Fuck you Hephaistion!" Krateros pulled his own cloak more tightly about his tall frame as he studied Hephaistion's sweat sheened skin and recalled the scroll he's just read. "I'd forgotten…accept my apologies, you are brilliant, and Philotas is a dead man, one misstep, he will reside in Pluton's halls."

Hephaistion began to drift to the side, almost falling over, losing his footing. "By Typhon's foul breath!" Krateros swore vehemently and grabbed him wrapping his arm about his lean waist. "Lean on me, come on just do it! Why do you have to be so damned stubborn? You and Alexander both, you near did me in that summer you came to Pella, when you were ten. Instead of one insufferable little Ganymede there were two. I wanted to strangle you both at times! I do not truly understand how, Ptolemy, Erigyus and Laomedon put up with you two!" He slung half his thick white and grey wolf skin cloak about Hephaistion's broad shoulders.

"At least I didn't cut your hair, you pride and glory, and stamp on it mocking your shorn curls." Hephaistion coughed out, a mocking tone in his voice which caused Krateros' to purse his mouth.

"I'll give you that." The older man answered with a laugh. "Gods, even at ten Alexander had a temper! I'll never forget it!" Then he mumbled gruffly when Hephaistion began to cough, again, and he pulled him closer so the cloak's heavy warmth was transferred mostly to him. "Never thought I'd be sharing a cloak with _you_!"

"The thought is returned believe me!" Hephaistion snapped. Finally, they made their horses, and with great groans of relief slung themselves up upon their backs. Hephaistion threw back his head gasping in pleasure, relishing the cool air upon his short sweat dampened curls. He was too warm.

What think you of the lions? By their pug marks I fear they are indeed Typhon's get."

Hephaistion frowned trying and failing to picture the lions that were terrorizing their camp and surrounding area. "Bigger than I am comfortable having Alexander hunt. Glad you are here, I'll be no help."

"You might be do you rest."

Hephaistion just rolled his violet blue eyes. "Oh, he'll not let me, not while there's a trace of fever."

Krateros frowned at him then raised a golden brow. "Not let you rest?"

Realizing his had scrambled his words, Hephaistion laughed softly. "Nai, rest, most likely that's all I'll be allowed when he sees me now."

"Then stay down."

They rode on talking of this and that, trading good natured insults then pulled their horses up as they cleared the first line of sentries and stopped abruptly hearing a familiar voice shouting, raging at someone in rough Macedonian.

"What in Haides?" Hephaistion breathed as his gaze fell over a small knot of men gathered about a group of riders just beyond the first row of tents. He picked out Alexander's bright golden hair as he stood haloed by the deep red of fox pelts that trimmed a cloak that was swaying in the wind behind him. He narrowed his eyes a bit peering into the knot of riders. "Setapas? What does he here?"

"Oh, fuck, that bastard!" Krateros leaned across gripping Hephaistion's arm tightly seeing the tall, well muscled figure of Philotas, cloaked in sleek black white trimmed fur sat atop his white stallion. His arms glinted with gold in the midday sunlight. A long menacing growl answered giving him pause Krateros glanced about then began to laugh uneasily when he realized it was coming from Hephaistion.

They watched, as Alexander, fighting for self-control closed his hands into hard fists as he faced Philotas. Cloakless, wearing only casual sandals with no winter leggings a sign he had come from a leisurely break in his tent, his hand shot out, gripping Philotas' foot, nearly dragging him from his horse. Philotas had muttered something neither Krateros nor Hephaistion could hear. They only knew by his body language he was infuriated, nearly as much as Alexander whose voice now echoed about them, booming with rampant irritation.

"Who are you to tell me my duties? I do not recall the League giving you power! No one, not my Mother, Antipater, neither you nor your father speak for me to the League. I am my father's appointed successor!"

In an instant Philotas vaulted from his stallion's back and stood towering over the smaller, slender figure of his king. Alexander looked a boy beside him, in his faded woolen chiton, uncovered head and tussled curls. "Alexander, try to und –"

"Hephaistion! Non!" Philotas stopped his attention drawn by Krateros' cry. He, Alexander and the others turned their eyes toward the two horsemen. Krateros caught Hephaistion just barely by the back of his cloak, but his weight was too much and the cloak loosed as he began to tumble bonelessly down toward the earth.

"'Phaistion!" Alexander shouting watched in horrified shock, his anger with Philotas gone in that instant, ran as though for his life over the snow covered ground. Behind him, a flash of dark lightening, his long, black hair streaming out behind him like a thick cloak Bagoas sped. Like two lithe, small, but muscular cats they caught their quarry, breaking Hephaistion's fall up in their strong arms. His closed eyes, pale, sweating skin and bluish lips told a fearful story. Krateros' scrambled from his horse's back helping them lift Hephaistion from the cold ground while men crowded in wrapping Hephaistion in their cloaks and helping fashion a litter which under Alexander's anxious eye they bore Hephaistion on toward his tent.

Gathering his and Hephaistion's mount's reins in his grip, Krateros threw Philotas a speculative glance as he passed him. He had not stirred a step.

To be continued….


End file.
